
Class A 

Book Jl 

G*yrightN°__ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



PRINCIPLES OF 
EDUCATIONAL PRACTICE 



BY 



PAUL KLAPPER, Ph.D. 

INSTRUCTOR OF EDUCATION, COLLEGE OP THE CITY OF NEW TOBK 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1912 



V^V 



Copyright, 1912, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



Cc ■ r.\ a.i?.r1 10 



TO 

MY ALMA MATER 
THE COLLEGE OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK 

THE EXPONENT OF 

EQUALITY OF OPPORTUNITY 

AND 

DEMOCRACY IN EDUCATION 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



PART I 

The Meaning and Function of Education 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Function of Education 3 

PART II 

Education as Physiological Adjustment 

II. The Physiological Basis of Education .... 21 

III. Manual Training and Vocational Education ... 37 

IV. Manual Training and Vocational Education (Con- 

cluded) 50 

Y. Physical Education Through Play, Gymnastics, and 

Athletics 71 

PART III 

Education as Sociological Adjustment 

VI. The Child and the Curriculum 91 

VII. The Curriculum: Its Social Organization . . . 108 

VIII. Social Content of the Curriculum 114 

IX. Social Content of the Curriculum (Concluded) . . 132 

PART IV 

Education as Mental Adjustment 

a. the instinctive aspect of the mind 

X. Self- Activity and Mental Development . . . .153 
XI. Instincts . . . 163 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XII. Imitation and Emulation 173 

XIII. The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 194 

XIV. How to Arouse Interest and Effort 211 

B. THE INTELLECTUAL ASPECT OP THE MIND 

XV. Perception: How Does the Mind Acquire Its Knowl- 
edge? 243 

XVI. Apperception: How Does the Mind Assimilate New 

Knowledge? 268 

XVII. Memory: How Does the Mind Retain the Knowledge 

It Has Assimilated? 287 

XVIII. Imagination: How Does the Mind Picture What It 

Retains? 308 

XIX. The Thought Processes of Conception, Judgment and 
Reason : How Does the Mind Use the Knowl- 
edge It Possesses? 332 

XX. The Thought Processes (Concluded) 353 

XXI. Formal Discipline : Does Special Training Influence 

General Ability? 381 

C. THE EMOTIONAL ASPECT OP THE MIND 

XXII. The Education of the Emotions 395 

D. THE VOLITIONAL ASPECT OF THE MIND 

XXIII. The Will : Its Place and Function in Human Life . 423 

XXIV. Habit and Habit Formation 437 

XXV. Education for Social Responsibility 451 



PART I 
THE MEANING AND FUNCTION OF EDUCATION 



CHAPTER I 

THE FUNCTION OF EDUCATION 

Education From a National Standpoint. — In our political 
and social development there have been two conceptions to 
explain and justify the existence of the state. These are 
extremes in aim and spirit and have given rise not only to 
limitless discussion and conjecture among philosophers and 
students of political and social sciences, but even to blood- 
shed among the classes constituting the social group known 
as a state. 

The Older Theory: The Individual for the State. — The 
first and the older of these two theories of the state holds 
that the individual exists for the benefit of the state. The 
state is supreme. State preservation is the highest function 
of the individual, both as an individual and as a member of 
society. Personal pleasure and ambition, family ties, and 
even life and limb must be unhesitatingly sacrificed at the 
will of the ruler if the welfare of the state is threatened. 
Assyria, Egypt, India, Sparta, the modern Mohammedan 
countries are the classic examples of the civilization and the 
political organization which have been founded upon the com- 
plete repression of the individual. 

The State for the Individual. — The more modern concep- 
tion maintains that the state exists for the benefit of its mem- 
bers. The highest duty of the state is therefore to promote 
the well-being of its component individuals. Their rights are 
supreme, their will the ruling force, their needs the ultimate 
aim, for they are the state. This theory holds that all indi- 
viduals have ceded certain rights to a central body, the state, 
for their own better protection. They created the state, they 

3 



4 The Meaning and Function of Education 

can recreate and reshape it, make the most radical modifica- 
tions, if their happiness and their well-being demand the 
change. This conception of the state shows appreciation of 
the true worth of man, the apotheosis of the individual. This 
doctrine is responsible for the rise and growth of republican 
government, the separation of church and state, the death of 
the divine right of kings. In the sixteenth and seventeenth 
centuries it secured religious freedom, in the eighteenth and 
the nineteenth, political freedom, and our economic sooth- 
sayers predict industrial freedom as its result in the 
twentieth. 

Conclusion for Education. — Opposite as these two views 
are, they nevertheless lead to a common conclusion when 
viewed from an educational standpoint. If the state is 
supreme and its welfare is the center about which individual 
life must revolve, then its growth and power depend upon 
the moral strength and intellectual enlightenment of its mem- 
bers. In the final analysis the state is no stronger than its 
representative member; like a chain, it is only as strong as 
its weakest typical constituent. The better the development 
of its component individuals, the stronger w T ill the state, as 
a whole, be. Its final safety and ultimate permanency lie in 
the education and progress of its members. 

If, on the contrary, the state exists for its individuals, the 
very best protection that it can give to them is to help them 
realize their own native powers, to teach them to use their 
own strength and to rely on their own resources. 

We know, full well, that we are destined to a life of social 
interdependence and mutual social help. True social effi- 
ciency can be attained only when each individual is prepared 
to contribute his best endowments to society and to enjoy the 
advantages which society has to offer him. This process of 
self-realization through social life is the highest result of the 
educative process. From the educational standpoint, both 
theories seem to teach the same lesson, viz. — Education is the 
greatest function and I In final safeguard of society and its 
organized form, the state. 



The Function of Education 5 

What Kind of Education Should Society Give? — Admitting 
this broad and theoretical conclusion, we come to a considera- 
tion of the kind of education which society must give. Before 
attempting to formulate a program of education, we must 
analyze very carefully the nature of the individual whom 
society is to educate. All human conduct and action are out- 
ward expressions of inner motives; they are only the result- 
ants of conflicting inherent impulses. If we turn the search- 
light upon our inner motives, we find that each individual is 
the slave of two instinctive tendencies, all-powerful and all- 
controlling. 

Conduct in Terms of "Individuating" vs. "Socializing" 
Nature. — First, we note the "Individuating Nature" which 
impels man to be himself, to differ from everybody else, to 
excel others, to stand above and apart, to lead. The teacher, 
the reformer, the inventor, the social and religious leaders are 
people with strong individuating natures. They assert them- 
selves, set up new standards of civilization, of right and 
wrong, of good and bad, because existing conditions, satisfac- 
tory to the average person, offend them. They are the prime 
factors in the movement for progress; they are the moral 
derricks that lift mankind to a higher plane and a nobler 
destiny. 

But let us note the implication; how can we excel and 
lead others unless we associate with them ? The individuating 
nature, in trying to assert itself or merely to make itself 
manifest, must give way, partially, to a second and almost 
opposite impulse, the "Socializing Nature." We suppress 
our individuating natures to such an extent that we become, 
at least, tolerable in the society of our fellow men. We find a 
peculiar pleasure, therefore, in being in the company of 
others. This social nature not only makes communal life pos- 
sible but encourages us to follow as well as to lead, to remain 
partially content with existing conditions, to live within 
the standards and customs of the rest of the community. 

Each person is hence a duality, a composite of two con- 
tending forces, one striving toward individualization and the 



6 The Meaning and Function of Educ ion 

other toward socialization. Should society, in its edu< 
suppress the individuating nature? Evidently not, fo 
all initiative, all invention, all improvement, all pr< 
would be stifled. Stagnation and decay would be the 
itable results. Should society, on the contrary, then gi. s 
the individuating nature unlimited sway and allow it to ex 
press all its inherent promptings? This may be an attractive 
ideal to some, but it can lead only to an exaggerated ego, to 
selfishness; it puts a premium on domineering haughtiness; 
it unsocializes the individual and makes organization impos- 
sible. Individuality is a blessing indeed. But too much indi- 
viduality is as bad as too little. It is an infallible sign of 
an anti-social personality. 

The question is not, therefore, which of these two natures 
shall we develop and which neglect. Both are inherent ; both 
make up the sum total of man; both help make the balance 
which means safety. The problem is rather, in what propor- 
tional relations shall we develop these two natures so that 
man may live in harmony with himself and the rest of man- 
kind. The best possible education, from the point of view of 
society, emphasizes both the individuating and the socializing 
nature. That education, then, is the best which gives the indi- 
viduality the greatest possible latitude, the freest possible 
development that is consistent with the welfare of the rest of 
society. 

How Can This Ideal Be Realized? — We have accepted an 
ideal in education, an ideal both broad and liberal. The 
very vital problem which confronts the teacher is the practical 
one of how to attain this ideal, how to make it approach 
reality. Let us consider the solutions offered by the great 
figures and the leading thinkers in the history of education. 

I. Education as Harmonious Development. — Many be- 
lieve that education can realize this goal if it will seek to give 
each individual a "harmonious development of all his powers 
and capabilities . " For a long time the definition of educa- 
tion which held sway declared that education was the process 
which sought the harmonious development of the individual. 



The Function of Education 7 

"' • is the Greek ideal which many would eagerly set up to- 
; a modern desideratum. This was the educational 
of Plato and his followers for centuries. Will such a 
tion of education lead to a realization of our ideal? 
i see. 
J What is the whole scope of the educative process, accord- 
ag to this conception? The individual. An education which 
fees no further than the individual, whose field of operation 
does not transcend the individual, is narrow. In the final 
analysis we are social beings and must be prepared for life in 
society. Our highest development is attained only through 
life and contact with others. All individuals are social in- 
dividuals, and all society grouped individuals. Education 
which seeks only the harmonious development of each indi- 
vidual 's powers does not point sufficiently to a training which 
will fit man for his social environment. 

Then, too, why should man's powers be developed at all? 
Why do we consider them an asset in life ? For the same rea- 
son that everything else that is valuable is so considered, — 
for its use. A picture is- valued because of its use in giving 
the pleasure which the aesthetic nature craves. A commodity 
or power is appreciated and wanted merely because it is 
usable. Utility is the keynote of value. Does this concep- 
tion of education suggest the use to which these powers will 
be put in society? It merely sets up as the goal of its en- 
deavors the attainment of harmoniously developed powers and 
capabilities. Before we develop our faculties, we must decide 
on their use, otherwise we are developing powers for their 
own sake. We must remember that in the economy of human 
life, a truism of axiomatic force is, "Aside from its function, 
a power has no value." 

To the two limitations that were noted above we must 
add that it is an error to presuppose that we need a harmoni- 
ous development of all our mental and physical endowments. 
No graver error is ever made than to labor under the belief 
that nature intended us to be equal. "We are born equal" is 
. catch phrase, as empty as it is erroneous. By nature we are 



8 The Meaning and Function of Education 

gifted in one direction rather than in another. We have capa- 
bilities which fit us for one line of activity rather than for 
another. Nature shows a most decided and positive prefer- 
ence for specialization. She has intended some of us to do 
one thing, others another. There is a special niche in the 
great social structure that each is to fill. Our varying 
gifts and degrees of endowment show clearly that we each 
have a special message to deliver, a special mission to fulfill 
for society. Education must take cognizance of this primary 
law and give each individual a training in harmony with his 
natural gifts, but not a training which seeks the harmonious 
development of all his powers and capabilities. The person 
artistically gifted must be artistically trained, the intellec- 
tually favored must be educated accordingly. To give each 
of us a harmonious development of all capabilities would 
neglect our natural aptitudes, and develop us along the weak 
as well as along the strong lines. If the modern sponsors of 
this Greek ideal had taken social needs and social life into ac- 
count, if they had not been so individualistic, they would 
have realized that each member of the community must be 
given the opportunity to be trained for the special life that 
nature intended for him in society. 

As a final point in our estimate of this conception of edu- 
cation, we must note how impossible it would be to tell when 
an individual has been developed harmoniously. What is the 
standard of measurement ? If by nature we are not all equal, 
harmonious development for one is not harmonious develop- 
ment for another. In addition to its other limitations, this 
standard is vague and impractical; its scope is limited and 
inefficient; it surely will not enable us to achieve our guiding 
ideal. Let us turn to a second theory of education. 

IT. Education and Spiritual Inheritance. — President 
Butler breaks away from the Greek conception and offers an- 
other in its stead. He defines the function of education as 
the "acquisition of the spiritual inheritance of therace." The 
followers of this standard of education set up culture as their 
goal, "Knowledge for its own sake" as the summum bonum 



The Function of Education 9 

for all educational endeavor. All that the race in its history 
has accumulated in the fields of science, art, and ethics should 
be handed down to the individual as his heritage. Will this 
conception bring us nearer to our initial ideal? 

This cultural conception of education lays too much stress 
on the acquisition of facts, the absorption of knowledge. Ed- 
ucation is not a "taking-in" process. Its very etymology con- 
tradicts this idea; "e," out, and "duco," to lead, suggest a 
process which unfolds the powers and capacities of the child. 
The individual gains strength and mental power only as the 
capabilities of his mind are evolved and used for necessary 
ends. This acquisitional aim of education overemphasizes 
filling the mind with data, storing it with facts. This con- 
ception does not realize that what is most important in edu- 
cation is not the imparting of facts or the giving of culture 
but the development in each individual of the power to find 
his own knowledge. It is hence a static conception of edu- 
cation. 

Then, too, these ' ' culturites " who would give the "spir- 
itual racial inheritance" rely too much upon the dead past. 
Living beings look to the future, which throbs with life and 
hope. Our goals lie before, not behind us. Education must 
prepare us for the life that is to be, not make us relive the 
life that was. We saw, a moment ago, that education should 
seek to develop each individual in harmony with his natural 
aptitude so that he may best perform the work which nature, 
through her gifts, has intended. Acquiring what the race has 
experienced in the past is no adequate preparation for one's 
individual work in the living present and future. 

There is no doubt that the past is necessary for present 
and future life. But do we need all the past? Evidently 
not. We. want only that in the past which serves to explain 
our present social organization and which foreshadows the 
probable line of future development. The followers of But- 
ler in education do not give enough attention to the actual 
living present, to preparation for life in the actual social 
environment. Their conception of education will not bring us 
2 



10 The Meaning and Function of Education 

to our goal, will not help us realize our ideal. Let us try 
still another. 

III. Education and Habit Inculcation. — James conceives 
education as the process which inculcates in an individual 
such habits of thought and of action as will fit him for his 
physical and social environment. 

The superiority of this conception of education over the 
two that we have just presented is unquestionable. It looks 
to the future, it seeks action rather than mere knowledge, it 
strives to prepare the individual for his proper place in so- 
ciety. Life's necessary future adjustments are set up as the 
goals to be attained; educational endeavor seeks to subordi- 
nate the whole personality to them. This conception of edu- 
cation makes for the greatest economy in mental and physical 
life. All necessary actions, all essential adjustments are made 
automatic, and the individual thus becomes self-acting in all 
vital situations. Proper conduct is guaranteed through force 
of habit. 

But may we not question its desirability as the final stage 
of human development ? The supreme force in human life is 
reason, not habit; the most desirable individual is the ra- 
tional, not the automatic one. The highest form of charac- 
ter development is found in the individual who is self-control- 
ling and self-directing. Would not this conception of educa- 
tion in terms of habit make all life routine, every individual 
a duplicating machine? To habituate life to the extent that 
James advocates would make us all slaves of our yesterday's 
selves. Our ideal sought to give the freest possible expres- 
sion of the individual consistent with social welfare. To re- 
duce life to the plane of habit means curbing and repressing 
the freest expression of the individual. 

IV. Education and Complete Socialization. — In recent 
years sociological and pragmatic thinkers have tried to make 
their impress upon education. Prof. John Dewey, a repre- 
sentative leader in these schools, has furnished us with his 
contribution to educational thought. His conception we can 
safely submit as the means of attaining the ideal we set be- 



The Function of Education 11 

fore ourselves at the beginning of the inquiry. The strength 
of the position of the sociological educators lies in the fact 
that their education seeks the harmonious adjustment between 
individual and society. Education for social efficiency is their 
shibboleth. 

Every action we perform, every choice we make, is dic- 
tated by the needs and the organization of society. We are 
pursuing this work, striving in this field of activity, because 
society has either made it the most attractive for us, or has 
forced us into it. It is society that establishes for us our final 
ends, and sets up our ultimate standards of conduct. 

Mentally, too, our judgments and decisions are fixed for 
us by society. We judge, we reason, we select, in accord- 
ance with social standards. Our moral and ethical views re- 
flect the moral and ethical standards of our society. Mind, 
then, is nothing more than a social function. The sole aim 
of the school must be to fit man for a most efficient social life. 
But we must not erroneously make social life and citizenship 
synonymous. Citizenship is only a small part of the social 
training which the school should give. As a member of so- 
ciety, the individual has more duties than the mere political 
ones. We must insist that the individual's membership in his 
family, in his club, in his trade, and in his church is just as 
important. The school must reflect all these phases of life. 
It must teach the industrial arts, the vocations in society, so 
that he may find his place in our present industrial organiza- 
tion. It must seek to develop leadership, for our democracy 
depends upon the people for its leaders. Training for mere 
citizenship is not enough ; the school must train for complete 
social life. To quote, "Apart from the thought of participa- 
tion in actual social life the school has no other end or aim." 

The School as a Training for Social Life. — How can 
the school train for complete social life? First, through its 
discipline and control, and, second, through the curriculum. 

School Discipline and Social Life. — In our class-rooms we 
have rules of conduct, attendance, industry, neatness, all striv- 
ing to attain the whole galaxy of school virtues. Strict ad- 



12 The Meaning and Function of Education 

herence to these rules is demanded of the children, because 
we hope that, through constant repetition, these will become 
habits. The child obeys, not because he realizes the necessity 
of the regulations, but because he is driven to obedience 
through fear. The reason for these rules we seldom, if ever, 
give. We demand that the children walk up one stairway and 
down another. Ask them why. The children have not the 
faintest idea that these regulations are made for emergencies 
of fire and panic. They do not see that these rules are in- 
herent and absolutely essential in the social organization of 
the school. They obey blindly, for these rules are arbitrary to 
them. But blind obedience to a set of arbitrary rules will not 
develop character, the power of self-direction and guidance 
so necessary in real social life. Every regulation in society 
has its origin in social needs. Every law that has been added 
came to safeguard some one's interests, to prohibit some one 
from trespassing on the rights of others. Just as society's 
needs have prompted our laws for society, so the social and 
communal life of the school has given rise to the regulations 
made and enforced by teachers and principals. Few children 
realize the need of the regulations. Hence, they disobey when- 
ever an opportunity presents itself. In their eyes the rule 
is made to deny them privileges and make more burdensome 
the lot already too heavy for them. Many children, therefore, 
find the joy of revenge in disobeying school regulations. The 
school, then, too often falls short of its possibilities in train- 
ing for rational social conduct. 

School Curriculum and Social Life. — Let us apply the 
same thought, social efficiency, to the school subjects. Just as 
the child does not see that the school regulations are socially 
necessary, so, too, he fails to realize that what we teach him 
has social value. When the child can glibly repeat that a 
mountain is a high elevation of land, or that a cape is land 
projecting into the water, we feel that our work is completed 
and we rest, content, But who cares whether a mountain is 
only an elevation of land, or a cape ;i projection of land? 
We do not, and surely the child who repeats these definitions 



The Function of Education 13 

is even less concerned. Of what importance is it to teach such 
a fact? What answer would we give our children if they 
asked such a question? These geographical definitions must 
be taken out of the realm of mere facts and given social sig- 
nificance, interpreted in terms of social need and social life. 
From the social point of view a cape is very important ; it is 
the greatest danger point in commerce ; the mariner and the 
foreign trader are highly interested in these projections of 
land. Capes break the coastline, make harbors, produce ship- 
ping facilities, and thus give opportunity for intercourse be- 
tween nations. The continent with the least number of capes 
— Africa, the Dark Continent — is the least civilized; the one 
with the greatest number — Europe — is the center of intellec- 
tual life. We are interested in capes because they have sig- 
nificance for human life. When aerial navigation is devel- 
oped to the same point that we have reached in water trans- 
portation we shall emphasize, in our geographical teaching, 
not capes, but promontories, mountainous capes, and pla- 
teaus, for these may be the great harbors for the future 
winged ships. But, in all cases, social needs determine what 
is to be taught. For similar social reasons we are interested 
in mountains, rivers, all of the important geographical forms 
of land and water. Their real significance is not physical 
but social. 

The same thought applies to the teaching of history. If 
the topic is ' ' Plymouth Colony, ' ' great stress is too often laid 
upon the fact that one hundred five souls came, that a child 
was born during the voyage, that the Pilgrims landed at 
Plymouth Rock, et al. Upon closer examination, what differ- 
ence does it make whether one hundred five or one hundred 
twenty-five souls came, whether they landed at the rock or 
on a sandbar? Our national history would have been the 
same. The real vital point to remember in teaching "Plym- 
outh Colony" is that, before landing, the colonists drew up 
a compact which provided for a democratic rule and election 
of officers. Here we see the seeds of modern democracy 
planted in the new world. Those facts which reflect present 



14 The Meaning and Function of Education 

social conditions and organization must be considered of 
prime importance; the others are of secondary consideration, 
whose loss need be of no concern. The importance of the 
past lies in the social organization of the present. 

The same point of view may be applied to arithmetic and 
to grammar. We burden the child with carpeting examples, 
partial payments, alligation, compound proportion, and a 
dozen other unreal topics concocted by text-book writers and 
school superintendents, their only excuse for the introduction 
of these unnecessary subjects being that they train the mind. 
Why cannot the mind be trained through examples that show 
actual business practices and business needs of social life? 

Teachers too often present numerous technicalities in 
grammar without emphasizing their application. A class may 
know the abstract and the concrete nouns, their definitions 
and examples. But unless a child can see the use of these 
and their need in social life he is engaged in a process of 
mechanical acquisition, without vital motive and interest. 
Show him how useful these facts are in his composition and 
in his speech, how they enable him to introduce variety into 
his sentences, how he can change "I like my friend" into "I 
like his friendship," "his friendship pleases me," etc., and 
the two kinds of nouns have a new meaning for the pupil. To 
learn these terms becomes a rational process. Unless the com- 
position can reflect the use of grammar, the latter becomes a 
dead subject, whose mastery is prompted by fear and not 
by a live motive which results only from a consciousness of 
social use. 

Our problem was to find how we can realize the ideal that 
we set before us, viz., "the freest possible development of the 
individual consistent with society's welfare." The answer 
we formulate after our study so far is: By preparing the in- 
dividual for complete life in society, by making the school 
and the curriculum reflect the social life and organization, by 
making them both part of life itself. 

V. Education as Adjustment. — The last conception of the 
educative process indicates the tendency and the direction 



The Function of Education 15 

which our endeavors must take. The immediate problem is, 
therefore, to formulate a more definite conception of education 
which will be in harmony with those sciences which deal with 
life and living. Our study thus far has viewed the problem 
from the individual's point of view, from his motives, his 
needs, his adjustments. Attention was centered on the sub- 
jective side of the process of education. The educational 
problem presents two factors: (1) the person to be prepared 
for life, and (2) the environment in which he must live. 
We must now elaborate our statement of the functions of 
education to include the second element, the objective as- 
pect. 

Despite all that has been said in emphasis and reempha- 
sis of the social aspect of life, it must not be concluded that 
it is the only phase of existence which governs education. If 
we were to scrutinize each activity to be accomplished, each 
relationship that the individual must establish between him- 
self and his surroundings, we would find that they can all 
be grouped under three heads: activities and relationships 
that are (a) physical, (b) mental, and (c) moral. 

The Phases of the Environment. — The individual's en- 
vironment presents certain primary demands upon him which 
necessitate the simplest form of physical activity. Walking, 
running, lifting, pulling, breaking, are a few of a host of ac- 
tions which the individual must perform in order to secure 
his food and satisfy those wants whose gratification preserves 
and sustains life. These physical activities, simple though 
they may appear because of usage and repetition, present 
numerous problems upon closer application. In all of them 
the individual is continually called upon to make a choice, 
to judge, to compare, to reason, to discover the best mode of 
■adjustment, the course which will realize the desired result 
at the smallest expenditure of effort and energy. The expla- 
nation of this close interdependence of physical and mental 
activities is almost apparent. Man always seeks the short 
course to his goal, the path of least resistance and effort, not 
primarily for the reason assigned by many sociologists, viz., 



16 The Meaning and Function of Education 

man is naturally a lazy animal, but because man's energy and 
vitality are definite and limited in quantity. His wants, how- 
ever, are infinite. If he is economical in the use of his powers, 
and seeks that route which enables him to attain his end with 
the least dissipation of energy, he can satisfy a greater num- 
ber of wants; he has a larger surplus of vitality; after the 
mere physical needs are answered he can minister to mental 
and spiritual wants, he can achieve new and higher endeav- 
ors. The whole scope and horizon of life are broadened. But, 
if human wants are not satisfied at the expense of least effort, 
man is in danger of finding himself poverty-stricken in en- 
ergy, bankrupt in vitality, with ever-pressing needs of real 
life constantly craving satisfaction. For this reason nature 
has wrapped with every physical act a host of intellectual con- 
comitants, so that every movement of the individual is as 
much mental as it is physical. 

But man does not live his life and satisfy his wants by 
himself. By nature, as well as by personal choice, he is gre- 
garious, social. His ultimate welfare, his best mental de- 
velopment, as well as his personal safety, lie in association 
with his fellow-men. This social aspect puts a new phase upon 
existence. It is a primary law of social ethics that every privi- 
lege entails a corresponding obligation. There are rights and 
privileges of others, therefore, which must not be infringed 
upon. There are personalities of others which must be re- 
spected even as each man respects his own. Standards of right 
and wrong, just and unjust, rules of conduct and morality 
are thus established, so that not only is personal liberty safe- 
guarded but each individual may take unto himself the great- 
est latitude of personal freedom compatible with the welfare 
of the rest of the community. 

Education as Adjustment to the Environment. — Educa- 
tion, then, is that process which seeks to adjust the individual 
to his physical, mental, and moral environment. Unless the 
individual can properly adapt himself to all his surroundings 
he will find that maladjustment means a life of friction and 
displeasure, if life at all. True happiness and real efficiency 



The Function of Education 17 

in life depend on the degree of adjustment to the complete 
environment. 

Education a Changing Ideal. — Education has been severely 
criticized because it is ever changing. In this brief study we 
have met thus far with four distinct conceptions. These are 
relatively modern ones. How many they have supplanted 
no one can tell. But, if education is conceived as a process of 
adjustment to the physical, mental, and moral environment, 
it must be ever changing to conform to the new tendencies in 
the world about us. The environment has been progressing, 
moving upward and onward in its growth ; it was never static, 
it is becoming more dynamic every day. If education is to 
be efficient, if it is to adjust man to this ever-changing and 
ever-growing environment, it must change and grow accord- 
ingly. "J As life becomes more complex, adds new wants, turns 
former luxuries into present necessities, education must keep 
changing its scope and function. Education which is not 
constantly undergoing this change is static, it fits for life that 
was, not for the actual living present. The instability of edu- 
cation, its very lack of permanence of form, is, therefore, a 
wholesome tendency and reflects its endeavor to keep abreast 
with progressive movements in all phases of life. 

True Meaning of Adjustment. — But we must be sure that 
we understand the word adjustment as used in education. 
Adjustment means a change to fit ; it presupposes, therefore, 
active bodies. Static bodies do not change. The previous dis- 
cussion may lead one to think that the individual changes 
himself to conform to his environment. Such a view is erro- 
neous, for it conceives the world as fixed and unalterable. 
This notion is diametrically opposed to a progressive and true 
meaning of the term adjustment as used in education. Man 
comes into the world with definite wants and desires. He 
draws upon the environment for their satisfaction. If he finds 
conditions which do not suit himself he changes them, not 
himself. The old cave was unsatisfactory ; man built a house ; 
all the knowledge that he can gain by observing nature's 
workings is too limited for his intellectual sphere; he there- 



18 The Meaning and Function of Education 

fore utilizes the laws of nature, experiments, evolves science 
and machinery, and harnesses nature; the food that he finds 
in its natural state he feels is not conducive to best health ; 
he therefore changes its form and composition, through fire, 
so that it satisfies his needs to the fullest extent. "Adjust- 
ment means, not that the individual fits himself to the world, 
but that he makes the world fit him. Man is not the passive 
victim of his environment, but has such power of modification 
and control as to either transcend or virtually recreate his 
environment." 

SUGGESTED BEADING 

Bagley. Educative Process, pp. 40-65. 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 1. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 3. 

James. Talks to Teachers, Chap. 4. 

Monroe. Text-Book in the History of Education, Chap. 14. 

O'Shea. Education as Adjustment, pp. 76-117. 

Kuediger. Principles of Education, Chaps. 3, 4 and 5. 

Search. An Ideal School. 

Spencer. Education, Chap. 1. 



PART II 

EDUCATION AS PHYSIOLOGICAL ADJUSTMENT 



CHAPTER II 

THE PHYSIOLOGICAL BASIS OF EDUCATION 

The discussion of the function of education is rather gen- 
eral, as interest is centered in the point of view, in the atti- 
tude that is to be taken toward the subject. We began with 
a general inquiry into the function of education by consid- 
ering the subjective side of the question, the individual. His 
inherent tendencies, his motives, and the various educational 
theories that sought to carry out the educational ideal were 
studied. Throughout the initial discussion emphasis was laid 
on what education must do for the individual. This was 
followed by a study of the objective aspect of the problem, 
in which the environment and its component elements were 
made focal. The sole aim was to find the means of harmoniz- 
ing the individual with his environment rather than with 
himself. The old systems of education, by trying to develop 
all human power, sought to develop man as a harmony in 
himself. Modern educational tendency seeks to develop the 
individual along those lines which will enable him to live in 
concord with his complete surroundings; it strives, therefore, 
to achieve, as its dynamic ideal, man as a harmony in society. 

The analysis of environment will determine the entire fu- 
ture development for this study. Since education is an ad- 
justment process, and since the relationships which must be 
established between the individual and the environment, are 
physical, social, and mental, our subject will be treated from 
three aspects: (a) the Physiological Aspect, seeking to fit 
the individual for the physical life and environment; (b) the 
Sociological Aspect, seeking the social life, the social and 
moral adjustments; and (c) the Psychological Aspect, aiming 

21 



22 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

at that mental development which will enable man to attain 
the best mental adjustment. Education viewed from these 
three aspects ought to give a fairly complete outlook upon 
the educational problem, upon the field and scope of the en- 
deavors of the teacher, the parent, and the directors of the 
child's destinies. Our immediate topic, then, is: "Education 
and the Physical Environment." 

The Brain as an Organ of the Body. — The simplest forms 
of animal life are little more than mere reacting machines. 
They move only when disturbed, eat only when food comes 
to them. Their environment is their complete master. But, 
as we ascend the scale of life, we notice a continued increase 
in the control of the environment. This is due to a differen- 
tiation of function that comes with an increase in the number 
of organs. One part of the body seeks food, another defends, 
still another watches for danger, while a separate organ con- 
trols locomotion. Each organ becomes specialized just as each 
worker in a modern factory is forced to become specialized in 
his particular specific function or process. An intensive 
study of evolutionary history from the simple biological forms 
to the higher animals, finally reaching man, shows that prog- 
ress is always from a mass of unrelated cells to groups of in- 
terdependent cells which are developed into organs, each func- 
tioning to enable the owner to better control the forces of his 
environment. 

If we conceive this specialization of function to be char- 
acteristic of animal development, we may be better able to an- 
swer the question which must be the initial problem in our 
study of the physiological aspect of education, viz.: "Why 
was the brain added to the sum total of our organs?" Surely 
for no other purpose than the one which has prompted the 
addition of all other organs — special function for better adap- 
tation. This answer is consistent with the theory of evolution, 
and explains the continuous development of our separate or- 
gans by the same principle. 

James, in his "Talks to Teachers," says, "Consciousness 
would thus seem in the first instance to be nothing but a 



The Physiological Basis of Education 23 

sort of superadded biological perfection, useless unless it 
prompted to useful conduct and inexplicable apart from that 
consideration." From the physiological point of view the 
brain is an organ of the body, with functions whose aim is 
primarily the aim of all other organs, viz., better adjustment. 

Brain and Mind. — Nevertheless, the teacher is always in- 
terested in the development of the mind, not the brain. Often 
in his mental haste he confuses brain and mind, at other times 
he thinks of mental development aside from brain develop- 
ment. This basic error must be noted before further prog- 
ress is made in this study. 

Their Differences. — It is highly important that we keep 
brain and mind apart. The brain is a physical organ, some- 
thing real, concrete ; the mind is ideal, it is a function of the 
brain. The relation between muscle and action presents a 
close analogy; the muscle is a physical organ, the action is 
its function. One does not see motive force, yet he knows of 
its existence through its results. So, too, with mind; it is 
judged by its accomplishments. The mind is the total reali- 
zation of all the possibilities and powers of the brain. The 
mind is the function, the brain the organ, of consciousness. 
The development of the one means the development of the 
other, since the development of function follows only as we 
develop the organ; hence, not only does brain development 
precede mental development, but brain development becomes a 
problem for education as well as for physiology. This be- 
comes evident in the consideration of the complete interrela- 
tions which exist between the two. 

Their Interrelation. — In early youth the brain substance 
is plastic and very impressionable. This is why the period of 
youth is the period of educability. Every impression, every 
stimulus, every new experience molds the claylike organ, the 
brain, in the early stages of growth. The nerve cells are ul- 
tra-sensitive to the slightest impingements. The entire nerv- 
ous system is very quick in its reactions upon the environ- 
ment. This receptivity lasts until the age of about eighteen 
or twenty. After twenty-five the nerve cells become less plas- 



2-4 Education as Physiological Adjust mint 

tic and the nerve connections become fixed. Home tells us 
that, after twenty-six or thirty, "a new science is rarely ac- 
quired, a new language rarely spoken without accent." As 
the brain substance loses its plasticity, its action and its 
paths become fixed and habitual; a change is difficult. This 
explains, physiologically, the radicalism of youth and the 
conservatism of old age. Anything new, revolutionary, at- 
tractive, fires the impressionistic mind of the young man ; but 
the older person regards the same experience phlegmatically 
and with no small degree of skepticism. His mind assumes a 
fixity of attitude and interpretation because the brain, the 
receiving station, is no longer so intensely alive to new im- 
pressions and varied stimulations. 

Conclusions for Education. — Youth, physiologically con- 
sidered, is the period, therefore, when the individual can be 
influenced most easily for good or for bad. The seeds of a 
moral and ethical life must be planted at this stage. If the 
brain cells are not subjected to the proper training and disci- 
pline in this period of infancy, when they are plastic, it is 
doubtful whether the most patient influences of later life can 
counteract or affect the perverted or neglected development 
of the early years. We all know that we are too often the 
slaves of early practices which have become fixed in us as 
the brain has lost its impressionability. We reason and de- 
cide upon a change, but the matter ends there. Our lives in 
this respect are not without their parallels in the physical 
world. The sculptor applies his magic touch and impresses 
his genius on the clay while it is soft. He can bring out the 
finest line and the gentlest suggestion without difficulty. But 
once the clay has hardened and has lost its plasticity, imper- 
fections cannot be remedied; they are held fast in the newly 
acquired rigidity. 

The late Josiah Flint, after years of tramp life and study 
of the criminal classes, concluded that the germs of criminal 
life can be traced to this early period. From actual associa- 
tion with the criminal classes he found that a large per- 
centage of the inmates of prisons and reformatories can trace 



The Physiological Basis of Education 25 

their downfall to criminalities acquired in early life. "We 
must, therefore, agree with Professor Home when he says: 
"A man is little more than the sum total of all the nerve reac- 
tions acquired in youth." — "Mental habits are primarily 
brain habits. Mental inefficiency is primarily brain ineffi- 
ciency. ' ' 

The great function of education is to develop the possibili- 
ties latent in the brain. "Develop" must be spelled with 
capitals, for education is not a creative force ; it can originate 
nothing new. The brain has infinite possibilities which lie 
dormant, waiting for the magic touch to become actualized. 
Education is the force which causes the human brain to bud, 
to blossom, and to fructify. The fruit is a well-developed 
mind approximating self-realization. 

Observations Which Are Indices of Brain Conditions. — 
Since the brain, its condition, its formation, its characteristics, 
and its inherent powers form the real basis of mind, and hence 
the foundations upon which we are to build in our education, 
it becomes necessary to stop and ask what symptoms and 
manifestations of children's work and activity will indicate 
their brain condition. The following is an attempt to formu- 
late a systematic scheme of observing children for the physi- 
ological condition of the brain, the organ we are to attempt 
to impress and influence. Its items are gathered not only 
from observation and from studies of medical inspections, 
but also from suggestions of authorities on the nervous organ- 
ization of children, from the works of educators like Rowe 
and Warner, who have specialized in this phase of develop- 
ment. 

I. Face. 

A. Forehead. — This part of the face expresses our mental con- 
ditions and attitudes, but not the slighter impressions. It is 
the deeper feelings and effects following the excitations of the 
brain caused by joy, sorrow, concentration, surprise, that ex- 
press themselves in no unmistakable signs here. The fore- 
head is an index of the intenser mental states because it is 
3 



26 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

formed by two sets of muscles, (a) a vertical set and (b) a 
horizontal set. In the brain excitement . accompanying sur- 
prise the vertical muscles contract and produce horizontal 
wrinkles that are seen in this emotional state. In concentra- 
tion the excitement in the brain cells stimulates the nerves con- 
trolling the horizontal muscles and vertical wrinkles result. 
When the forehead expresses the deeper excitations of the 
brain it is a fair index of a normally active brain, respond- 
ing to joy, grief, effort for deep thought. But when the fore- 
head is continually in motion, expressing every change in the 
brain activity, responding to every varying mental feeling, it 
is generally a common sign of weak brain control. 

Thus, of a whole school examined, Warner reports that 
forty-one per cent, of the hoys and forty-six per cent, of the 
girls with overacting frontalis, ovei'-responsive foreheads, were 
rated by their teacher as C and D in lessons. While it is not 
safe to condemn a child whose forehead shows poor control 
and over-responsiveness, such a condition is a fair warning 
sign. 

B. Eyes. — Both the eye and its surrounding muscles are excellent 
indices of brain condition, temporary and permanent. 

1. The muscles beneath the eye are very responsive to the 
nervous energy in the brain at a given time. In the normal 
condition the muscles are rounded out and give a healthy tone 
to the surroundings of the eye. But in hours of fatigue and 
brain debility due to (a) weakness, (b) overwork, (c) poor 
nutrition, they become baggy and lose their healthy tone and 
fullness. 

2. Color, brightness, and movement are the essentials to 
look for in the eye itself. But movement is the most impor- 
tant factor. 

The eye governed by the healthy brain is active, alive, 
seeking here and there. The reason is found in the fact that 
a healthy child's brain is overstocked with energy which is 
constantly striving to work itself out in action of one kind or 
another. This pent-up energy drains itself most easily along 
the nerve routes connected with this sense organ, hence the 
restlessness of the bright eye. 

But too much movement is bad. It may show, not surplus 



The Physiological Basis of Education 27 

brain energy working itself free from its cage, but poor brain 
control, a brain not strong enough to master the muscular 
movement. This ultra-activity is bad, for the eye does not 
stop long enough on any presentation to take careful observa- 
tions. Such children are poor in judging colors, sizes, shapes; 
in later classes they read words that are not on the page, omit 
many that are there. They become the poor spellers, for they 
cannot look long enough at a word to carry away a good, 
complete visual image. How many teachers ever stop to ask 
themselves why a particular child is poor in spelling, good in 
arithmetic, grammar, and the other thinking subjects'? They 
simply decide that the child does not study, and apply the 
usual form of punishment. How many stop to find out why 
children misshape the letters after repeated explanation that 
the "b" crosses here "tf not there ~B* . "Carelessness" is 
the prompt verdict and the "D" is placed in the effort column 
in the roll book. 

A reliable test for good eye movement is direction. The 
teacher should explain the changing directions of the coast 
line of a continent, all the time pointing to the outline of the 
map, If the eye keeps following the pointer, brain control is 
good. The child who has poor eye movement shows a lateral, 
sideward motion with no attempt, or no apparent attempt, 
to focus on any one point or series of objects in the regular 
order demonstrated by the teacher. 

Facial Movements. — Like the movements of the eye, facial 
movements show the amount of brain activity and brain energy 
seeking freedom. An active, healthy brain gives a changing 
expression, a play of movement about the mouth, an enlarg- 
ing or closing of the eye space, with each changing idea or 
emotion. If, on the contrary, the expression is steady, chang- 
ing only when the teacher introduces a humorous idea, a pleas- 
ant thought, or a pathetic interest, it is a sign of a limited 
stock of energy in the brain. 

It is needless to point out that undue or unusual expression 
in the facial muscles is usually a fair sign of weak brain 
control. Children who are continually making grimaces, chang- 
ing facial expressions without cause are nervous. But the ex- 
ceptions are important and numerous even here. Many chil- 



28 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

dren, especially hoys, are quick-tempered. In their mental 
wanderings t heir imaginations carry them afar. They picture 
themselves in battle against the enemy, in duel with the robber, 
a pirate struggling against attempted capture, and the like. 
The child often feels these imaginary struggles intensely and 
gives expression to them through distended nostril, glare of 
the eye, and other facial movements, characteristic of this 
state. These signs must not be construed amiss. No child 
must be judged silly or weak-minded for an occasional grimace 
or gesture, which the tired and busy teacher cannot explain at 
the moment. 

D. Minor Points. — We must not go too far in our interpretations. 
Many consider the formation of the mouth, size and shape of 
the chin, shape of the head, size of the head, ears, etc., and 
seek to draw guiding principles. Nothing is so dangerous and 
so unjust, for it prejudices the teacher for or against the child. 
All these signs are misleading, the exceptions to the rule are 
, seen oftener than the rules. These are not reliable indices at 
all and should not be used by the teacher. They must be left 
in the province of the specialist of child study. 

Even the theories dealing with the size and weight of the 
brain have been completely shattered and are regarded with 
well-merited scepticism. We know, to-day, that the brains 
of many savages are larger than those of civilized men of 
equal stature. The brain of the savage Indian has been found 
to be larger than that of his civilized brother. The Eskimo 
brain in most cases is larger than our own. We know that 
the number of brain cells in the brain is complete four weeks 
prior to birth. We must therefore exercise the greatest care 
in judging the child. 

II. Hands — The hands are as good an index of brain activity 
and control as the face, l hough tew laymen and even teachers 
suspect the fact. An excellent test is the "weak hand bal- 
ance." The child is asked to extend his hands and arms for- 
ward until they are parallel with the floor. In the "weak 
hand balance" one notes the hand taking the same position as 
in sleep. The wrists droop, the fingers point downward, the 
left hand is lower than the right. Unless the child happens 



The Physiological Basis of Education 29 

to be very tired and indisposed this is a fair sign of weak 
brain control. 

"Finger twitches" are another important index. The ob- 
server must make sure that the child's fingers are spread apart, 
otherwise they will give mutual support and the true condition 
is concealed. "Finger twitches," dropping of pencil, paper, 
books are very often signs that the brain is not strong enough 
to send out the control that is needed. In many nervous dis- 
orders of children, like tics, chorea, migraine, these two tests 
are considered of prime importance by the physician. 

In a test conducted in the schools of our large cities it 
was found that forty per cent, of the boys and thirty-five 
per cent, of the girls with "weak hand balance" or "finger 
twitches" were reported "D" in lessons. While the conclusion 
is not inevitable and the signs are far from infallible, the 
results are, nevertheless, significant if borne out by additional 
evidence. 
III. Trunk. — The healthy brain controls the trunk so that it can 
be held erect in standing. But a tilt or bending sideways, 
forward or backward may be the result of years of bad 
posture in sitting, working, and standing. These incorrect 
forms are not signs of brain condition. 

Weak brain control is often indicated by lordosis. Chil- 
dren so afflicted will, when trying to reach for something a 
little ahead of them, bend at the loins rather than at the 
shoulders. This shows weak brain control of the muscles of 
the back. The proper place to bend is at the shoulders and 
a trifle below. When children are watched in profile this can 
be seen very readily. Although not of very immediate impor- 
tance, it is nevertheless a symptom of poor brain control when 
seen in connection with other signs. 

An interesting experiment may be tried with such children. 
As a rule, when they are asked to hop a short distance they 
fail miserably. Shifting the weight to one foot gives a 
"wobbly" trunk; this entails an extra strain to keep one's bal- 
ance. The weak brain cannot send out enough energy to keep 
the trunk rigid in this state of doubtful equilibrium and shift- 
ing center of gravity. In one class of twenty-three defectives 
not one boy succeeded in hopping across a class-room of aver- 



30 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

age width; in another the children made a very poor record 
compared to that of a normal group. 

IV. Characteristic Actions.— A healthy brain shows actions with 

the following characteristics very prominent : 
A. Much Spontaneity. 

Signs of: Smiling of infant, cooing, hand and foot move- 
ments, eye movements, changing facial expression. 

Cause of: brain overcharged with energy, which flows out 
to the muscles, thus giving action without apparent cause or 
stimulation. 

Forms of Expression : (1) In unstimulated action as described. 
(2) In imagination. The energy in the brain may stir the 
various brain centers; old impressions of things seen, heard, 
and felt are thus called up and combined into a new experi- 
ence that has no real counterpart. This accounts in part for 
the impossible stories children tell, for conversations with dolls, 
promises to them, and the whole array that an ultra-active 
imagination can conjure up. 

Abnormal Expressions of Spontaneous Activity we find in — 

(1) Illness where the brain control is weak and under 
little control by the child. Every slight feeling of discom- 
fiture brings action which is apparently spontaneous, but in 
reality provoked. 

(2) Dull children who are usually quiet because they have 
no extra energy or initiative that is craving for expression. 

(3) Action with undue regularity of movement. Thus a 
regular twitching of the face and winking of the eye, a blink- 
ing, a shoulder movement, a finger movement, and a rolling 
of head are illustrations. This is usually a sign of tics and 
approaching nervous derangement of considerable severity. 

Treatment. — The important problem for parents and teachers 
is how to treat such cases. It is absolutely imperative that such 
children be removed from school, for other children imitate 
their actions. The teacher or parent must talk gently to the 
afilicted child. A scolding often works untold harm because 
these children are irritable. They should then be placed be- 
fore a mirror to see how disagreeable is their habit. A desire 
to control these habits must be aroused in these children. Sin- 



The Physiological Basis of Education 31 

cere active cooperation on the part of the child is absolutely 
essential. But, in addition, expert medical aid must be sought. 
Lesson for the School. — Some of these symptoms lead to 
many serious nervous troubles, but the early signs are so hard 
to detect that only the skilled observer can interpret the signs 
of approaching nervous chaos. A medical inspection, on a 
large scale, systematic, careful, and well organized, is needed 
to supplant the present fiasco in most of the city schools. 
We do not appreciate the gravity of such cases, for the ulti- 
mate results are not seen. These children drop Out of our 
lives; their later histories are lost to us, but they come up 
again in the future, in hospitals, asylums, and reformatories 
to an amazing extent. 

B. Impressionability. — This characteristic is determined by the 
ease with which the brain is impressed by what is presented 
to it through the senses. The kindergartner shows the child 
the elementary colors; how often must this presentation be 
repeated before the child recognizes and differentiates them 1 ? 
The teacher shows the child two geometric shapes; how many 
times must this be done before reliable recognition occurs? 
Two weights are placed upon the child's palms, and it is told 
which is the heavier and which the lighter; how often must 
this practice be given before the child's brain responds cor- 
rectly as the weights are changed? 

• These recognitions do not refer to the child's brilliancy, 
or intellectual ability, but to its impressionability, to the 
ability of its brain to receive and retain an impression as 
the standard of judgment for future use. 

C. Inhibition of Movement. — This quality of action is illustrated 
in the child who can obey the common negative orders faith- 
fully. Such children show that their brain action and control 
have inhibitory power. Thus the teacher orders, "Stop ! Do 
not speak out or raise your hand when you have the answer." 
"Cover these two points on your paper, with your ruler; take 
pencils, do not draw until the order is given." "Take pens, 
do not begin until I count three." Our spontaneous impulses 
prompt action. Ability to combat or inhibit this natural 
yearning is a sign of strong bi*ain control of body. 

I). Compound Brain Action. — This characteristic of action is mani- 



32 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

fested in the ability to perform a series of actions or move- 
ments. Thus in physical training the child is taught one simple 
movement, arms forward; then another, arms upward; then 
another, trunk bending forward, and finally a fourth, trunk 
bending backward. The four movements are combined, arms 
forward and trunk forward, arms upward and trunk backward, 
and then repeated in alternate sequence. 

Some children combine these and go through the exer- 
cise with accuracy and precision. There are order and sequence 
in their successive movements. Others, on the contrary, can- 
not perform this series of actions, but simply imitate those 
about them. Compound brain action shows better brain con- 
trol, for it includes good impressionability and retentiveness. 
E. Well Coordinated Action. — In simplest terms, this means such 
brain control of body and muscles that mind and muscle act 
in unison. An example of well coordinated action can be seen 
in teaching folk dances. The girl is shown the step and she 
has a mental picture of it. Can she execute it; can her brain 
direct her feet and body faithfully? A child may have a fine 
picture of the outline of a continent in its mind's eye. Can 
the brain so direct the fingers that the child executes on paper 
what it has in its mind? Coordination can be tested only 
when the teacher is positive that the child has a clear idea 
or mental picture of what is desired. 

Summary — Since the brain is the organ whose efficiency deter- 
mines the possibilities of mental development, we endeavored 
to organize a table for better, more purposeful and systematic 
observation of the condition and intensity of brain activity 
and of the extent of brain control. The scheme, though far 
from complete, may serve as a helpful guide for this purpose. 

The Increased Period of Infancy in Man 

In the litrht of this discussion of brain efficiency as a de- 
terminant of menial efficiency, brain development as a neces- 
sary antecedent of mental development, what can be the mean- 
ing of the long period of infancy in man? What, is its edu- 
cational importance .' 



The Physiological Basis of Education 33 

Infancy in Man and Animal. — A few weeks after birth the 
little cub can run about and find its own food if necessary. 
The young stag, barely a month old, skips about, begins to 
feel life's responsibilities as he proudly surveys the land- 
scape about him. If misfortune overtakes the parent, the off- 
spring can care for itself. But when we come to man we find 
that the period of infancy is increased considerably. Great 
care is necessary in the days of helplessness. With all the 
attention that is bestowed upon us, almost one-third of the 
human race dies before the age of five. To understand why 
man's period of infancy is so protracted we must contrast the 
life of animals with that of man. 

1. The animal is born a 1. Man, on the contrary, 
bundle of instincts. It can is born with fewer immediate 
react upon the environment instinctive acts, but he has in- 
almost immediately, for it finitely more possibilities to 
needs no organization of its develop. He cannot react upon 
faculties and nerve centers. his environment at once, 

because he must wait for the 
development of nerve connec- 
tion for the establishment of 
a proper coordination be- 
tween mind and muscle. 

"When an act in the life of man or an animal is always to 
be performed in the same way, the action is organized before 
birth. Breathing, digestion, heart action are examples of 
such prenatal organization. An animal's daily existence is 
nothing more than an everlasting duplication of the same 
routine; its life's activities are organized at birth. But man 
leads a life that is full of change, variety, adjustment to 
needs, and, consequently, most of the human activities are 
organized after birth. 

2. The animal relives the 2. Man lives a life pecul- 
life of its parent. If one iarly his own. Each individ- 



34 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

studies the life history of any ual makes a special effort to 

common animal he has stud- cut away from the bonds of 

ied the life history of its an- his forefathers. It is a con- 

tecedents and of its progeny, fession of weakness to admit 

Animal life is a perpetual that one is merely reliving the 

repetition of the same needs, life of his ancestors. Man's 

the same reactions, the same individuating nature rebels 

trials and dangers. and demands change, a life 

that is distinctly his own. 
3. The animal leads a 3. Man lives a complex 

simple life. It has a few life. His wants are many, es- 

physical wants which are pecially in the realm of the 

the sum total of life's call. intellect and the spirit. 

This final differentiation needs no comment. We may 
well doubt the homely phrase of Goldsmith that has become 
a household expression, "Man wants but little here below." 
Our desires are practically infinite, for no sooner is one want 
fulfilled than a new one of more or less importance is already 
clamoring for satisfaction. Our whole development consists 
in widening life's horizon, in prompting our individualities 
to continue demanding an infinite series of ever-increasing 
wants. 

Educational Implications. — As the human race is physio- 
logically and psychically constituted, man needs a longer pe- 
riod of infancy, for he must prepare for a more complex life. 
Education must do for man in his period of infancy whal 
nature does for the animal in the prenatal stage — i. e., train 
for adjustment to surroundings. 

The more complex the destiny, the longer is the period 
of infancy. How consistently' does the chain of animal life 
show this! The butterfly has a simple life and a simple mis- 
sion to fulfill. The cocoon bursts open, the butterfly unfurls 
its wings and begins to flit about at once. The little chick 
spends a few hours after its release from its prison shell try- 
ing to actualize its powers. It shows almost all the necessary 
reactions soon after its birth. The little kitten is helpless for 



The Physiological Basis of Education 35 

a few days, but its essential powers soon show themselves, and 
it is ready to start out on its life's journey. As we ascend the 
animal scale the period of infancy is constantly prolonged. 
The new-born ape is the most helpless of all animals below 
man. For an entire month the young ape cannot stand alone. 
It begins to move about by seeking support in much the same 
way as the human child. Fiske describes the manlike tailless 
apes of Africa and the Indian Archipelago. These are the 
most developed of all apes, but "they begin life as helpless 
babies, and are unable to walk, to feed themselves, or to grasp 
objects with precision until they are two or three months old." 
The period of infancy in man's life is far longer than in many 
of the lower mammals ; in civilized man more protracted than 
in the savage. 

Swift, in his "Mind in the Making," sums up our posi- 
tion admirably. He says: "Animals that are born fully de- 
veloped are incapable of sudden adaptive changes. Their 
nervous systems are built to explode in certain ways and the 
appropriate stimulus is the igniting spark. A ready-made 
nervous system ceases to be efficient the moment the environ- 
ment becomes changeable. Nervous structure must keep pace 
with the growing complexity of surrounding conditions ; and, 
as man was born amid the throes of climatic convulsions, a 
nervous system with fixed reaction could not meet his needs. ' ' 
Hence, unlike the brutes, man must pass through a period 
of helplessness, a period of infancy, when the whole nervous 
and mental apparatus attune themselves to the complex des- 
tiny they are to serve. 

Social Significance. — John Fiske was first to show not only 
the educational importance of this period of infancy, but also 
its social significance. President Butler then elaborated this 
conception. They both make it responsible for our present 
family and for the morality of the home. In man, as in the 
animal, this period of infancy is a period of parental love and 
affection. But in man this stage lasts long enough to make 
its effects permanent. In this period of dependence the child 
is the common bond between father and mother, it centers 



36 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

both their individual interests upon its well-being. Their 
love and hopes and aspirations are wrapped up in the child. 
Even after it is physically capable of caring for itself, the 
parents feel that there are intellectual and spiritual aspects 
of life to develop. This period is then continued beyond the 
age of mere physical helplessness. The higher the civiliza- 
tion the longer will this period of infancy last, for it means 
a period of education. To-day the educational period of in- 
fancy lasts through the kindergarten, elementary school, high 
school, and college, a period "almost double the psychic point 
of adolescence," a period which John Fiske places at a quar- 
ter of a century. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Boas. Growth of Children. 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chaps. 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6. 

Donaldson. Growth of the Bruin, Chap. 18. 

Fiske. Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, II, Part II, Chap. 22. 

Halleck. Education of the Ce7itral Nervous System. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chap. 3. 

Swift. Mind in the Making, Chap. 5. 

Warner. The Nervous System of the Child. 



CHAPTER III 

MANUAL TEAINING AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION 

The first function of education in this period of infancy 
is to train man for his physical adjustment. The question is, 
therefore, "What means has education for discharging this 
function?" The modern school organization has two: (a) 
Manual Training and the Vocationalization of the Individ- 
ual, and (b> Physical Education through (1) Play, (2) Gym- 
nastics, and (3) Athletics. 

The initial topic that must introduce this first means of 
bodily training is obviously the reasons that make this an 
essential means of physiological development. There is a 
fivefold consideration that governs our study, viz.: (1) Psy- 
chological Development, (2) Sociological Adjustment, (3) 
Economic Betterment, (4) Educational Efficiency, (5) Ethi- 
cal Gains. 

I. Psychological Justification 

The Two Brain Centers. 

The Sensory Center. — Judging from the functions of the 
mind, we distinguish two separate brain centers : The first is 
the sensory intellectual center, which runs from the sense or- 
gan, the retina of the eye, the inner ear, the cuticle, along 
afferent nerves to the cortex or the surface of the brain. The 
sense organs thus become the gates to consciousness. At any 
one moment there are countless stimuli, sounds, lights and 
shades, colors, odors, vibrations affecting the skin, all knock- 
ing at these portals, seeking admission ; but only those that 
are strongest succeed in gaining recognition. This sensory 

37 



38 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

intellect gives the individual his knowledge of the world with- 
out, of the environment in which he lives. The vibrations 
and stimulations thai impinge themselves upon us have mean- 
ing for us only as they are interpreted by this sensory in- 
tellectual center. It is, therefore, that mental function which 
makes mankind conscious, thinking beings. 

The Motor Center. — But merely possessing the power of 
thinking is not enough. Mere perception of good and just, 
or bad and unjust, is far from sufficient. Action must follow. 
This is accomplished by a second center, the motor center of 
the brain. Through its direction stimuli which are brought 
into the brain are changed into impulses and are sent from 
the cortex or surface of the brain along efferent nerves to 
their respective muscles. Desired ends are thus achieved. 
This second center makes man an acting as well as a thinking 
being, and thus his active adjustment to the environment be- 
comes possible. 

The Functions of the Two Centers Constitute the Func- 
tion of Mind. — It is seen that one center receives all the sen- 
sations from without and interprets them, so that the world 
in which we are placed has meaning for us ; the second directs 
the movements that follow our ideas. A complete education 
is not content with training the sensory center, the interpret- 
ing faculties, but seeks to develop the will as well, for only 
then can the individual become self-directing. A mere 
thought is useless. If all our thinking ended in the mind, and 
did not become action, mental life would be sterile. A 
thought that remains in the mind is absolutely without social 
importance. When the thought leads to action, then it be- 
comes social and has social significance. Thoughts which do 
not result in some form of action, of physical expression, of 
social communication, represent mentality socially wasted. 
A hrillianl thought uncommunicated has never yet enriched 
society, a good impulse unexpressed has never yet cheered 
the despondent, an inventive idea unapplied has never har- 
nessed nature's forces, an ideal in the realm of day dreams 
unrealized has never lifted human life and destiny upward, 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 39 

au inspiration unsung has never liberated mankind from the 
shackles of the commonplace and the ordinary. 

Danger in the Traditional One-sided Sensory Education. — 
Thought for thought's sake is a vanity as empty as it is pom- 
pous and useless to mankind. Thought must pass over from 
the sensory intellectual center to the motor intellectual cen- 
ter, for our psychology teaches that, unless thought and deed 
are thoroughly interrelated, the individual cannot fulfill his 
destiny or be thoroughly responsible. The person who thinks 
good thoughts, but never acts a good act, is a well-intentioned 
Hamlet. An idea without a motor side is useless. On the 
other hand, those whose actions precede their ideas are the 
"fools who rush in where angels fear to tread." The well- 
balanced, safe person is he who has the best equilibrium es- 
tablished between thought and deed, whose motor and sen- 
sory centers act in unison and perfect harmony. 

Dean Balliet complains that the elementary school over- 
emphasizes the intellect and neglects the active side of life. 
He says: "Much of our present school work divorces know- 
ing from doing, and often exaggerates the relative value of 
the former when compared with the latter. Examinations 
test knowing more than doing, and often degrees are con- 
ferred for attainment in knowing rather than doing. This 
is unfortunate. The legitimate end of knowing is doing." 
The two centers, sensory and motor, thought and action, must 
be so adjusted that the former flows into the latter. We must 
remember that, when the action has no direct nor intimate 
connection with thought, irresponsibility is developed to such 
an extent that we class the individual as defective in moral 
adjustment. The training for such children must be man- 
ual ; we must appeal to them through action, through the 
hand. Those who have had experience in teaching and train- 
ing the so-called incorrigible child can testify to the effi- 
cient results obtained by teaching them "doing" rather than 
"knowing." The keynote in this whole training is that we 
are attempting to establish such a coordination between 
thought and action that control is developed. In a sense, 



40 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

then, education is a training which seeks to transform sensory 
stimuli into motor impulses. If this transfer is made easy and 
habitual, the body becomes the perfect tool of the mind, and 
action becomes the safe sequence of maturely deliberated 
thought. 

Manual Training a Motor Education. — The modern edu- 
cator and the psychologist go a step further and insist that 
these two centers are so completely interrelated that every 
idea has two elements, a thought element and an action ele- 
ment. No idea is complete without either. This may be 
granted now, for this question will recur in a later connec- 
tion. Of these two elements, thought and action, the latter 
is evidently the stronger in the child of six or seven. The 
savage, who is the child in society, also shows that, in the im- 
mature mind, the tendency to action is the predominating 
impulse. We were all acting beings long before thinking be- 
ings. All experimental investigation bears out the conten- 
tion that the first part of the brain to begin functioning is 
the motor area ; that, unless we exercise it and develop it, the 
higher centers that control thought will be partially impaired 
and show stunted growth; that, upon the development of the 
motor area depends the development of the intellectual cen- 
ters. 

Motor Education Must Initiate the Child Into School Work. 
— It necessarily follows that early education should be physi- 
cal, that the first year of the school should be all manual, all 
activity. One would, therefore, a priori, prescribe clay-model- 
ing, pottery, woodwork, paper cutting and folding, sewing, 
drawing, recitations and their dramatization, singing, and the 
like. But, in their stead, our educational systems place the 
child in a stationary seat and begin number work, reading, 
spelling, recognition of written words, letters or figures — 
work which is primarily mental rather than motor. The child 
is not interested in the spelling of tent, ox, arrow, their uses 
fascinate him. To meet this natural instinctive love for activ- 
ity, modern educators have organized an early curriculum 
which seeks to take the child through his ancestral life and 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 41 

teach him the development of the race. The first year deals 
with the hunting and fishing stage of primitive life. The In- 
dian 's social life is taken up and reconstructed in all its details 
from the story of Hiawatha. The tent, the fire made by fric- 
tion, the cave, the pond, the crude pottery, the dress, the 
weapon, all these are learned and studied, not in spelling or 
reading, but through actual creation. The sandhill affords an 
excellent opportunity to lay out a community of tents, a pond, 
a spring, a forest, a mountain, or a valley. The boys build the 
stakes of the tent with twigs, the girls cut the cloth to make a 
covering. In the clay-modeling class the children make the 
pots and vessels used by the Indian ; in their sewing class the 
girls imitate the costumes. Training in color perception and 
design is afforded by having children select proper colored 
ribbons and imitate the original form of design. Weaving is 
taught as the children make crude rugs, baskets, and Indian 
carriages. Drawing, too, is taught in a most natural way. 
The children draw, in the same spirit, those things that they 
have created. They give the freest expressions to their 
thoughts. All the work of the first year is designed to utilize 
this natural instinct for activity, to strengthen the motor area 
that is weak and needs development. Since we work along 
lines indicated by the children's instincts and mentality, the 
work is interesting to them, attractive to the point of fasci- 
nation. 

Early Manual Work Must Not Exalt Technique. — How in- 
telligent does this kind of manual training appear when com- 
pared with the prevailing stupid, formal lessons of making 
little articles of folded paper, which are too simple and which 
the child does not want. Children fold paper into chairs, 
tables, boats, etc., but they no more look like boats, chairs, and 
tables than houses or birds. They call them chairs and tables 
because the teacher announces the title. How stupid to find 
children in a first-year class in cord and raffia work engaged 
in exercises which illustrate one principle or another. The 
manual training syllabus of one of our large city systems pre- 
sents the work in 1A as "exercises in knotting, single, dou- 
4 



42 Education as Physicflogical Adjustment 

ble, and triple knots, and the chain stitch." Xo child cares 
about the kind of knots or stitches; he is interested in making 
an article that he needs. When the child is interested in the 
creation, in the result, we show him the principle. Thus the 
1A drawing tells the teacher to be sure to pay attention to 
"mass, proportion, placing, and direction of line." The first- 
year pupil takes keen delight in drawing a picture that is free 
and easy, with no rules of "mass, proportion, and placing." 
Drawing should allow the child to give his freest expression. 
Let him draw pictures of objects, of people ; the result, how- 
ever crude and ludicrous, is an expression of his ideas. How 
absurd to find children in low classes drawing a sheet full of 
lines, in their endeavor to get proper shade and direction. 
What do they care for these? A sewing syllabus should not 
introduce the subject with exercises in elementary stitches. 
When the child is most anxious to achieve a result it should 
not be required to sew together bits of cloth in order to learn 
the kinds of stitches and the elementary technique. 

All these exercises are dead. The child does not want the 
technique, for he is interested in the actual creation, the re- 
sult, the accomplishment of something socially necessary. The 
curriculum must teach, first, the creation of objects, then the 
principles underlying them. Let the child draw something 
that he wishes to express, then show him that his proportions 
and his line arc bad. Let the little girl begin sewing by mak- 
ing something she needs, then teach the necessary stitches in 
the course of actual creation. Let the child begin his cord 
and raffia work by making a napkin ring, or a picture frame ; 
then, in the course of the construction of the article, teach the 
principles of knotting, weaving, etc. It is the outcome thai 
the child wants; the process, at best, is a necessary evil. 
Every shop-work teacher knows that the children care far 
less for the early exercises and far more for the later work 
in constructing articles whose use is apparent to them. 

Manual training often fails in the elementary school be- 
cause it begins by emphasizing technique, the abstract princi- 
ple rather than the concrete result. It fails to embody the 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 43 

principle laid down in our first chapter, viz., the elementary 
school must reflect social use, social need; otherwise its work 
is meaningless and futile. 

Summary. — Manual education, then, seeks to give motor 
training, to make all thoughts work themselves out in proper 
action, to emphasize "doing" and accomplishment as well as 
knowing. It seeks to give finely responsive muscles and to 
develop a better control over them, not only through exercise, 
as in gymnastics, but also through intelligent purposeful use, 
the creation of something that the individual wants. It seeks 
to establish a perfect coordination between brain and body, 
mind and muscle, so that any idea that we have can be ap- 
propriately executed. The child conceives a pencil box, its 
size, shape, partitions, and little conveniences within. His 
sensory center is well developed. But when he tries to exe- 
cute he fails. The reason is obvious : his motor center is poor ; 
the muscles do not obey his commands; there is no coordi- 
nation between conceiving and creating. To quote President 
Butler, "Manual training is mental training through the 
hand." The words of Tyler's "Growth and Education" seem 
very appropriate in our summary of the psychological aspect 
of the manual arts in education. "Manual training is mental 
training. In the skill of the artisan's hand, in the methodical, 
accurate movement of the mechanic's arm, in the accurate 
observation of the eye and ear, you train the mind. Never 
admit that manual training is anything distinguished from 
or in opposition to mental training." 

II. Sociological Justification 

Education Changes with Society. — Our introductory study 
showed us that education must constantly adjust itself to new 
conditions. An education which neglects the needs of a new 
age is static and worthless. It seeks to adjust the individual 
to a life that was, to make him retrace the steps of his prede- 
cessors. Civilization has just begun a new epoch in its prog- 
ress, an age of industrialism. What does that mean for edu- 



44 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

cation? A retrospective view of the history of mankind 
shows that the seat of manufacture was in the home. Spin- 
ning, weaving, nail-hammering, candle-making were domestic 
industries in which everybody in the household shared. The 
implements were simple and the processes all hand processes. 
But soon there came a great influx of machinery in one short 
decade, and with it the application of water, and later steam 
power. Machinery had to be collected under one roof, the 
place of manufacture had to be located where water power 
was convenient, or where there were facilities for transpor- 
tation, for the bringing of coal, and the carting away of 
finished products. Hence, those localities which were natu- 
rally favored with water power and which were readily ac- 
cessible were made the centers for these new factories with 
their machinery. Industry had now left the home and had 
come to the industrial centers, the towns. Those who wanted 
work had to leave their old homes and come to establish 
new ones in the industrial towns. 

The Great Social Changes in Modern Industrial Society. — 
One of the most important results for education which fol- 
lowed the inauguration of this period of industrialism is the 
world-wide city movement. It is calculated that, within a 
very short period, about seventy-five per cent, of our popula- 
tion will be found in the cities. Education must move with 
population. It must change its character, just as the char- 
acter of our lives has changed in shifting from the natural 
center, the country, to the artificial center, the city. If the 
individual has suffered any losses in the shift, education must 
make up this deficit. What can these losses be? A brief 
survey shows us that they are three : 

1. The city child has lost an opportunity for natural 
work and play in a healthy environment. Contrast the coun- 
try and the city child in this respect. The country boy can 
ride a horse, harness a team ; he can use a hammer and a saw, 
and is familiar with the use of various kinds of woods; he 
has seen the various vegetables grow from seed to ripening, 
has aided in plowing, harrowing, planting, hoeing; he can 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 45 

scale a fence, climb a tree, aim a rifle; he knows the names 
of a dozen or more trees, birds, flowers ; he knows the common 
animals, their habits, and their haunts. His whole life seems 
to be motor and outdoor. The city child loses all the benefits 
of these natural forms of motor training. Education must 
hence seek to make up this deficiency, to give back to the city 
child what industrialism has taken from him. It is for this 
reason that all forms of manual training, woodwork, iron- 
work, and nature study, with its elementary botany and ele- 
mentary zoology, have been introduced into our present edu- 
cational system. The girls are given such work as is suitable 
for them — cooking, housekeeping, sewing, weaving, the do- 
mestic arts. Manual training, in all its forms, was therefore 
added to our present course of study because the environ- 
ment has changed ; education, in its endeavor to be a dynamic 
and progressive force, has changed to meet life's new needs. 

2. The second loss which the city child has sustained by 
the modern trend of social development is the lack of knowl- 
edge of the use of materials. Because of the opportunities for 
motor work, the country boy knew the use and qualities of 
wool, of cotton, of hemp, or flax ; he knew the different kinds 
of earths and sands, the common kinds of rocks, the various 
kinds of wood ; he knew which wood to select for a floor, which 
for a ceiling, what is durable, what perishable; he knew the 
secrets of nature's gifts. 

The city child is thoroughly ignorant of the uses and quali- 
ties of the material about him. For this reason recent cur- 
ricula introduced the "Object Lessons." They were fortu- 
nately short-lived in America. The teacher taught all about 
coal in one lesson, about wood in the next, glass in another, 
and some other isolated and unrelated topic in the following 
period. Children were to observe and tell us what they saw; 
then the teacher told them what they did not see. Each 
grade usually repeated the work of the last with a killing 
regularity. There was no system, no order. The curriculum 
sought to give the child a knowledge of materials in this arti- 
ficial way. These lessons proved dead and useless. To know 



46 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

the uses of an object we must use it; mere observation gives 
;i superficial knowledge of sense qualities. The observer sees 
not only the useful but also the useless ones. The object 
lessons died a hasty and well-deserved death. 

In "School and Society" Dewey shows how the manual 
training lesson can give a knowledge of materials used, of 
their advantages and disadvantages. A class of girls of about 
twelve years of age was engaged in weaving some useful ar- 
ticle with threads of wool. Before the work was begun the 
teacher called attention to the fact that heretofore the threads 
were of cotton. The two materials, cotton and wool, were com- 
pared. The observations were directed by a few questions, 
and the children noted that (i) cotton is grown in small 
threads, while wool comes in long ones; (ii) cotton is smooth 
and therefore does not adhere, while wool is rough and its 
threads cling easily; (iii) cotton is difficult to extract from 
the pod by hand, while wool is combed easily without mechan- 
ical contrivances. The pupils concluded that our ancestors 
wore wool rather than cotton, but the inventions of the cotton 
gin and machinery for the manufacture of cotton goods over- 
came these natural difficulties. Here we have a manual train- 
ing lesson giving food for thought. The children had an 
intelligent idea of the relative merits of the two materials 
because they were using them. No object lesson can bring 
out these qualities so naturally and so vividly. 

3. The third great loss which the city child must bear 
is lack of a variety of work after the elementary school period. 
The country boy who must leave study at the end of the 
elementary school finds some form of employment that offers 
variety, — farming, store-tending, lumbering, teaming. The 
organization of rural industry is not intricate and involved, 
and its division of labor is not minute. The work offers 
plenty of change. The average city child, on the other hand, 
who leaves school must go either into an office or a factory. 

The Significance of These Changes for Education. — In the 
regular routine of office work the child finds himself engaged 
either in general messenger sen ice or in some form of special- 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 47 

ized clerical labors at a low wage for a number of years. As 
he becomes older his salary becomes insufficient, and, unless 
he has learned a special line of industry, he goes out looking 
for something. What is he especially suited for? He looks 
for everything and finds nothing. He has no trade and shifts 
from job to job. Manual labor he regards beneath the false 
dignity which comes so often with clerical labors. What is 
he? What is he fit for? Has education adjusted him to his 
environment ? 

Too often the lad finds the factory waiting for him. Our 
whole modern factory organization is based on minute divi- 
sion of labor. The greater the number of processes in the 
manufacture of an article the more mechanical does it become. 
A shoe passes through seventy or even one hundred thirty 
separate processes, seventy or one hundred thirty pairs of 
hands are necessary, but in each case the individual merely 
brings the shoe to the machine. The individual does not rea- 
son, nor judge, nor use skill, nor impress his personality on 
the article. He feeds the machine and removes the product. 
His actions are constant duplications; they become lifeless 
and mechanical. This automatic machine-tending stultifies 
the body and stupefies the mind. This machine worker soon 
becomes as stupid as the machine which he is tending. Day 
in, day out, the same dead, dull, grinding monotony drags the 
individual down to the level of the iron monster. 

Our untrained boys and girls who are annually belched 
out by the school into society enter industrial life at "its most 
painful point, where the trades are already so overcrowded 
and subdivided that there remains in them very little educa- 
tion for the worker." Each craft is no longer a "mysterie"; 
learning its processes and secrets is no longer a means to 
an acquisition of skill and dexterity, the artisan's greatest 
assets, which foster the dignity and the independence of the 
true worker. 

What is the bearing of all this on education? The reader 
may have already anticipated. The school must save the 
child from the predicament of the office and from the soul- 



48 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

crushing grasp of the modern highly specialized factory. 
Ninety-five per cent, of the school children of our great coun- 
try never reach the high school. An elementary education is 
all they receive. It is evident that manual education must go 
one step further and give each child of this ninety-five per 
cent, a specific vocation by means of which he can earn his 
living. If ninety-five per cent, of our children must lead 
business or manual lives, is it not fair to demand that thirty 
per cent, of the time of their education be devoted to voca- 
tional training? 

In the middle of the school course the child should be in- 
troduced to the work of the carpenter, the smith, the book- 
binder, the leather worker, or the wood carver, one of a host 
of useful occupations. This information can be given to the 
children through talks by the teacher, a systematic series of 
discourses on occupations, illustrated by stereopticon views, 
through visits to neighboring shops, reports of personal ob- 
servations by the children. Aside from its value as a neces- 
sary preliminary vocational training, this work has its edu- 
cative worth in presenting a series of pictures of human life 
in the various vocational pursuits. In the latter part of his 
education the child should be allowed to specialize and be- 
come proficient in the elements of one of these. These crafts 
are higher than mere machine-tending. They demand skill, 
mastery of muscle, judgment, new adjustments. They are 
the just and the necessary heritage of our boys and girls. 

Teachers in even our large city schools who have under 
their charge girls beginning the seventh year of elementary 
education know definitely that many of their pupils must en- 
ter the industrial world as soon as they graduate. The chil- 
dren can give the teacher this information, their parents will 
bear them out. What do we give these girls to prepare them 
for the inevitable struggle? In arithmetic we treat them to 
the doubtful mental delights of mensuration, including areas 
of parallelograms, circles, surfaces of cylinders and cones, 
of square root, of stocks and bonds, of elementary algebra and 
inventional geometry. In grammar we cover a course of 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 49 

study which presents a scientific organization of the subject, 
half of which we cannot apply for them. Thus we go on, 
led by the educational will-o'-the-wisp, "culture," comfort- 
ably oblivious of its true intent and content. What a bless- 
ing education would be, if only fifty per cent, of these two 
years were devoted to this illusive "culture" and the rest of 
the time to acquiring a mastery of the elements of millinery, 
dressmaking, household economy, stenography and typewrit- 
ing, bookkeeping, or any one of a host of occupations that 
would enable the child to find its niche in the industrial 
world in which it must live. 



SUGGESTED READING 
(List Given at the End of the Topic, Chapter IV.) 



CHAPTER IV 

MANUAL TKAINING AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION 
(Concluded) 

III. Economic Justification 

The business man has never shown so much interest in any 
educational problem as in the movement for advanced man- 
ual training and systematic industrial education. Labor 
unions, as well as employers' associations, are championing 
the cause of industry in education. An inquiry into the cause 
leads us to consider the economic aspect of the problem. 

What Economic Changes Necessitate Vocational Training 
To-day. — Our modern economic organization has brought with 
it conditions that make vocational training a necessity not 
only for our further economic development but also for a 
greater usefulness and a decreased precariousness in the life 
of the individual. What are these new conditions.' 

1. The home has lost the industrial characteristics that 
were prominent under the domestic system of industry. 
Whether this means an ultimate gain in the moral and so- 
cial influence of the home remains to be proven by time. So- 
ciologists and educators feel that the home is thus freed from 
extraneous work that should not be part of its inherent or- 
ganization. Theoretically this separation of home from in- 
dustry should work to the inestimable advantage of the for- 
mer in giving it a finer and purer morale. But another agenl 
is necessary in our society to supply that industrial training 
which the home gave in our simpler social and industrial or 
ganization. 

2. The old guild system, with its apprenticeship, has long 

50 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 51 

passed out of our social life. Under its organization the youth- 
ful aspirant to a trade was compelled to pass a long period 
as an apprentice in the household of the master workman. He 
received his industrial equipment during these years. This 
was followed by a period of journeyman life, of travel from 
one industrial center to another, during which time the 
worker plied his craft as an itinerant artisan. This meant 
varied and useful experience. After the production of a 
masterful piece of work which successfully passed the scrutiny 
of the master workmen, came the reward, election into the 
craft guild. Despite the caste system and other objectionable 
phases inherent in such an organization, industrial training 
was nevertheless gained, and industrial efficiency of the 
worker was usually guaranteed. We have no such educational 
agency to-day. This training is as essential to-day as it was 
then. True, it may not be a requisite in the same industries 
as heretofore, owing to their mechanization through the intro- 
duction of machinery, but the training is essential in other 
industries that have sprung up since. 

3. Our modern factory system, with its machine products 
and minute subdivision of labor, has brought such specializa- 
tion that the young worker who enters it becomes proficient 
in only one minor process, is acquainted with only one tech- 
nical requirement, develops skill in only one part of the craft, 
and remains ignorant of the trade as a whole. He becomes 
an appendage of a machine rather than an "all-round" 
worker. The craft is usually so complex that only those that 
have received training for it can understand it, can assume 
the responsibilities of the larger work of supervision and 
guidance. Where shall this training be obtained? Who 
other than the community shall give it ? 

This technical education can be obtained' from a number 
of private concerns to-day which make it a practice to train 
their own artisans. But there is no reason why the state 
should wait until personal need moves private individuals to 
initiate and develop this branch of education. Our cultural 
education was conducted for ages by private philanthropy or 



52 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

by the bounty of the church. Throughout the centuries of 
this private initiative, education never made the strides that 
it has made during these few decades under state and public 
guidance. Socialism and its tendencies have proven them- 
selves eminently successful in education and far superior to 
private effort and control. 

4. Revolutionary changes in process and result have not 
been limited to industrial pursuits. Agriculture is trying 
hard to keep pace with the progressive movement. The old 
system of farming is hardly farming when compared with 
the modern farming, which applies the scientific aids, taking 
advantage of our knowledge of chemistry of soil, of physics, 
of our new machinery, and of experiments in the exter- 
mination of insects that bring death and devastation to plant 
life. Where shall the farmers' lads procure this knowledge? 
How shall they learn the new ways and progressive methods 
that science and the inventive genius of man are producing? 
This is one more additional duty that the community must 
assume in its endeavors to supply industrial needs. 

5. Our modern urban life, with its large communities, 
rich in varied abilities that are concentrated in the city, is 
responsible for an inevitable keen social competition. City 
life and city organization demand specialization, expert 
knowledge of one craft, mastery of one industry. With the 
numbers of people so large and expert ability so prevalent, 
only the industrially fittest can survive in our struggle for 
social existence. Education must become more socialized, 
more vocationalized, for only then can it hope to give to each 
individual what he needs most. Our point is brought home 
by Professor Gillett, who tells us, "To socialize education com- 
pletely would be to vocationalize it. To vocationalize it 
would be to reconstruct it to harmonize with the exact consti- 
tution of society. But society is an organization of voca- 
tional structures. It is highly specialized. Education must 
then be as specialized as society. It must be vocational be- 
cause society demands specialized members to serve it faith- 
fully. 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 53 

Progress in Vocational Education in Foreign Countries. — 
It may be an argument lacking in merit to urge vocational 
training in our democracy because great strides have been 
made elsewhere. But the position is not so flagrant a HPT^ 
sequi tur if we reflect upon the inestimable advantages that 
have accrued to those communities that have entered an active 
campaign based upon a progressive program of vocational 
training. Let us see what other countries have achieved. 

In the days of general praise of American industries and 
pride in our industrial development, during the St. Louis 
Exposition, Germany sent a commission of eminent scientists, 
educators, economists, sociologists and business men to study 
the American industrial status. While we were lost in the 
general enthusiasm and wrapped up in our own glory these 
men scrutinized our whole business organization. Germany 
wanted to know our true power industrially, how much she 
was to fear us economically. The commission did its work 
quietly, but so effectively that it has given us much food for 
thought, and its reports are responsible, to a great extent, 
for our national interest in, and clamor for, industrial train- 
ing. The story of what the commission learned and its con- 
clusions are well told by Person in his "Industrial Educa- 
tion." 

The German students found that, while we Americans are 
progressive and have vast physical resources, Germany need 
not worry about the United States as a permanent effective 
competitor. The reason is a "complacent feeling of satisfac- 
tion with everything American." The United States is thor- 
oughly content with the national assets that she has. There 
is no attempt to improve her industrial skill or give system- 
atic industrial education. The United States is relying on her 
vast resources to keep her in the first rank among the nations. 
Will our hope be realized? 

Germany is constantly striving to turn out most efficient 
workers. Her trained chemists become the leaders in the 
chemical world of dyes, mixture of steel, explosives and the 
like. Her schooled textile workers are the rivals of the time- 



54 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

honored English weavers. Her clerks and accountants are 
called to the largest concerns in the United States. Her well- 
trained mechanics are called to the United States to take 
responsible supervising positions in American foundries. Her 
salesmen, schooled in the world's needs and outputs, in 
modern practices of business, give her a place in every impor- 
tant market in the world. The United States Educational 
Report for 1903 tells us, "It would be difficult to estimate 
how many young Germans are managing the correspond- 
ence in our large houses" (United States Educational Report, 
1903, p. 654). So much do we need industrially trained men 
that not only are we importing these in great numbers, but 
private concerns, feeling the need, have themselves under- 
taken to give a thorough industrial training to apprentices. 
The Baldwin Locomotive Works, the Lawrence Textile School, 
the R. H. Hoe Company, of New York City, are examples. 
These are some of the few oases to which we can point to 
relieve the monotony of our educational desert in vocational 
training. How puny do we appear when compared with the 
nation-wide movement in Germany ! 

The city of Munich began its system of vocational educa- 
tion in 1900 when it transformed its continuation schools. 
To-day it boasts of fifty-two separate vocational schools, 
1 ' Fachschulen. " It is a city of only five hundred and eighty 
thousand people, with a school population of seventy thou- 
sand. There are nine thousand boys and seventy-five hundred 
girls who are taking compulsory vocational work. To these 
must be added thirty-six hundred girls who are taking volun- 
tary studies in these schools, thus giving a total of twenty 
thousand pupils. Boys are required to attend the public 
schools when they are from six to fourteen years of age. 
If they do not enter the high schools, but plan a business or 
industrial career, the law compels three years' attendance 
at the vocational school while practicing the trade in a shop. 
With girls the compulsory period for elementary school is 
from six to twelve years of age. Those who are not to con- 
tinue studying must select their vocation and begin a com- 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 55 

pulsory educational period in the vocational school. The 
hours are so arranged that these children can earn a little 
working at their crafts while studying. This education is 
absolutely free. The variety of trades offered can be seen 
from the following partial list: Butcher, baker, shoemaker, 
barber, woodturner, glazier, gardener, confectioner, wagon- 
maker, blacksmith, chauffeur, tailor, photographer, decorator, 
waiter, painter, paper-hanger, bookbinder, potter, jeweler, 
silversmith, watchmaker, leather-worker, milliner, dressmaker, 
cook, waitress, nurse, etc., etc., etc. 

Saxony, a diminutive state, has one hundred fifteen 
technical institutes ; Baden, with a population of one million 
six hundred thousand, spends two hundred and eighty thou- 
sand dollars annually for technical education ; Hesse, with 
its one million inhabitants, has eighty-three schools for indus- 
trial designs, forty-three schools for the manufacturing indus- 
tries, and some minor provisions. The state of Prussia has 
in active organization over three thousand industrial, trade, 
commercial and agricultural schools, which care for two hun- 
dred thousand students. The city of Berlin has forty thou- 
sand students in "supplementary trade, industrial and com- 
mercial schools." These are some of the striking features 
which the American student of education regards with envious 
eyes. 

England has awakened to the educational need of the 
century. Professor Gillett, in his "Vocational Education," 
gives us a resume of the effective means put into operation in 
the hope of reclaiming lost industrial prestige and position. 
Civic Universities have been established in the cities of Bir- 
mingham, Manchester, Liverpool, Sheffield and Leeds. These 
are large technical schools and aim to teach men the applica- 
tion of science to industry. Leeds, the textile center of 
England, has its Civic University, with a "School of Tex- 
tile Industries" and a "School of Dyeing and Coloring Chem- 
istry." Only after Germany succeeded in wresting from 
England the supremacy in the dyeing of fabrics were these 
two "schools" organized. Sheffield, being the cutlery center 



56 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

of the Empire, has a "School of Metallurgy" in its Civic 
University. Each city is therefore trying to give the best 
possible technical training in its specialty in its endeavor to 
withstand the telling competition caused by the efficiently 
trained foreign worker. 

In Japan, France, Denmark, Switzerland, Norway, and 
Sweden the same movement has already begun, and is being 
pushed with vigor and intelligence. The only part of our 
country that can be put into the same category is the South. 
Whatever this section has achieved redounds to the everlasting 
glor y of the foegro race ? which is meeting the problem under 
the leadership of Booker T. Washington, who sees in voca- 
tional training the only practical salvation of his race. Schools 
like Tuskegee and Hampton have become the models of their 
kind. There are now seventeen schools in the South super- 
vised by Tuskegee graduates, each having not less than sixty 
students. Of the total number of graduates from these tech- 
nical institutes, less than ten per cent, are failures in their 
trades. Farming among the negroes is never so remunera- 
tive as when the technical school graduate returns to the 
farm or goes about giving his fellow-men the benefits he has 
acquired. What these schools have meant for the social 
amelioration of the negro will be shown later. The negro is 
beginning to realize that in our age of industrialism, social 
salvation may be attained only through economic progress and 
independence. 

Industrial vs. Vocational Training. — Before proceeding 
with the discussion, it would be well to stop a moment to dif- 
ferentiate industrial from vocational training and consider 
the true province and endeavor of each. It must be noted 
that these two forms of education are not synonymous. In- 
dustrial training socks to prepare for the industrial and 
mechanical pursuits and vocations in life. Vocational train- 
ing is far more inclusive, seeking to incorporate every 
necessary phase of social activity. Only a small fraction of 
our population is industrial. Hence education must not only 
be industrialized, it must be vocationalized as well. 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 57 

Forms of Vocational Training. — What forms shall voca- 
tional training take in order to fulfill the characteristics em- 
phasized in this distinction? In the main, it includes five 
lines of endeavor, viz. : ( 1 ) Professional activities, which need 
no further discussion. (2) Commercial pursuits, which in- 
clude the trained salesmen, advertisers, buyers, business man- 
agers, import and export clerks, accountants, bookkeepers, 
stenographers and typewriters, and general office assistants. 
(3) Agricultural industries, under which we incorporate all 
forms of farming, fruit growing, lumbering, cattle raising 
and kindred activities. (4) Industrial crafts, which cover 
the host of manufacturing and mechanical industries. (5) 
The household arts, which count among their occupations 
sewing, cooking, housekeeping, nursing, and the allied domes- 
tic processes. A complete vocational program like the one 
that is in operation in Germany covers them all, for only then 
can it meet all vocational needs and afford a safe and attrac- 
tive variety. 

Economic Advantages of Vocational Education. — We can do 
no more than indicate our deficiencies and suggest remedies 
that should be inaugurated without further delay, for there 
are economic gains which we can ill afford to lose. Indus- 
trial and vocational training on a national scale make for 
efficient economic organization. Germany and Japan hold 
leading industrial places among the nations because they are 
both industrialized and vocationalized. They are fast climb- 
ing to the top of the industrial ladder despite the recency 
of their organization, and the limitations of their physical 
resources. 

Vocational training means industrial efficiency for both 
employer and employee. Old business organization was sim- 
ple, the means of communication were limited, transporta- 
tion was poor, the very processes of industry were exceedingly 
elementary. The modern business world is a happy contrast 
with its complexity of organization, its competition, its elabo- 
rate means of communication and transportation, all of 
which have produced world markets to supply world needs. 
5 



58 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

This developmenl needs trained workers, specialized toilers, 
thinkers highly efficient in their respective fields. This added 
industrial efficiency brings its reward not only to the em- 
ployer, but also to the worker, for in its wake comes a higher 
scale of remuneration. Person in his "Industrial Education" 
gives a statistical table showing an increase of three hun- 
dred per cent, in the wages of the skilled mechanic over his 
unskilled fellow-worker. The Massachusetts Commission on 
Industrial and Technical Education reports that boys who 
enter a shop at fourteen receive a maximum wage of twelve 
to thirteen dollars per week. But those lads who spend a 
partial apprenticeship up to eighteen years of age receive an 
average wage of thirty dollars per week and have prospects 
of promotion to supervising positions. This increase in wage 
rate is characteristic not only of mechanical crafts but of 
financial, commercial, and managerial positions. 

In our own country we can show excellent results of 
agricultural education given in the western colleges and uni- 
versities. Scientific farming, cattle raising, agricultural chem- 
istry, scientific dairy methods, are studied in special agricul- 
tural schools. The farms are producing more, the people are 
more prosperous, the income from cattle-raising is much 
higher, the temptation to go to the city and intensify the 
strife and competition is lessened considerably. The whole 
community is happier in every respect because industries and 
the bread and butter activities have found a place in the 
school. The sad sight of abandoned farms throughout New 
England and upper New York would occur far less frequently 
if country boys and those living in small towns had learned 
how to apply the lessons of modern chemistry, agriculture, 
and physics to the cultivation of the land. If our scientific 
knowledge will not make easier and happier our lives, what 
is its use? Aside from social service knowledge has no 
reason for existence. 

Is There an Economic Danger in Vocational Training? 
— Economists and theorists of every school have expressed 
their doubts of the ultimate efficiency of vocational train- 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 59 

ing. Their great fear seems to be that skilled industries will 
be overcrowded. What the final result of a long period of 
vocational training will be is difficult to decide with any de- 
gree of certainty. It is an undisputed fact that the greatest 
problem of unemployment to-day is the disposition of the 
vocationless. While there may be an over-supply of general 
labor to-day, there is a continued and persistent demand for 
the skilled worker. Vocational training would lessen the ranks 
of the unskilled worker, and thus equalize labor demand and 
labor supply. The greatest difficulty which labor agencies 
and government labor exchanges must face is the problem of 
the unskilled laborer, not that of the skilled worker. 

One may ask: "Is not the tendency of labor toward 
mechanized and unskilled labor?" This is true in the main. 
But with conditions as they are to-day, there is plenty of 
room in the skilled trades. It must not be forgotten that 
there is a counter movement which has set in as a reaction 
toward hand crafts. This counter movement will gain in 
force and in popularity with the advent of a liberal voca- 
tional education. Eespect for machine products, machine 
pottery, machine glassware, machine furniture, is continu- 
ously growing less. There is an ever-increasing and unmis- 
takable demand for the hand-made commodity which shows 
artistic design and personal skill, and which reflects the indi- 
viduality of the worker in his product. 

IV. Effect of Vocational Education on the Efficiency of Our 
Educational System 

We measure the efficiency of the school and its educational 
system by their ultimate and permanent effects upon their 
charges, by the extent to which they ultimately and perma- 
nently influence their pupils, and determine their future wel- 
fare. The standard that we use in forming our estimate of 
the efficiency of an educational institution is its ability to 
produce responsible individuals who can become independent 
of the teacher. This is the highest ideal that the teacher can 



60 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

attain in his work. Measured by this educational yard- 
stick, the limitations of our school system become apparent. 
That it can be rendered far more influential and efficient 
by the addition of vocational training to its legitimate activ- 
ities is our thesis. We must now turn to the proof. 

The School and the Problem of Social Pathology. — Pathol- 
ogy is that branch of medicine which studies the physical indi- 
vidual whose physiological condition is such as to interfere 
with the normal, healthy functioning of the organs. It is the 
study of the diseased individual. The social body is by no 
means free from social diseases; it, too, is heir to ills and 
aches, to cankerous growths which gnaw at its vitals and sap 
its vitality and life. We have problems of social as well as 
individual pathology. 

What are the causes of social pathology, of anti-social indi- 
viduals who cannot adjust themselves to their social environ- 
ment, who cannot become desirable, integral parts of the com- 
munity, who fill the ranks of the paupers and criminals, 
who are leeches upon the social body? In a brief survey we 
may trace their social disease to: (1) Reasons of Vicious 
Heredity, (2) Reasons of Physical and Physiological Defects, 
and (3) Reasons of Adverse Environment and Limited Edu- 
cation. The first two reasons explain the destiny of one out 
of ten anti-social individuals; the third is the cause of the 
unfortunate predicament of the other nine. Although these 
figures present an ugly truth, it is nevertheless one not devoid 
of hope, for the environment can be improved and educa- 
tion may be elaborated and liberalized. The incorporation 
of vocational training into our educational curriculum will 
do much to alleviate both these conditions, viz., adverse 
environment and limited education, by (1) reducing elimina- 
tion from the school, and (2) reducing a prominent cause of 
crime. 

Elimination in the School. — Recent statistical reports are 
replete with interesting information concerning the large 
numbers of children who curtail their education long before 
graduation if they have attained the limit of the compulsory 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 61 

school attendance age. Commissioner Draper estimates that 
only two-fifths to one-third of the children who enter the ele- 
mentary school graduate, and only one-half stay through the 
fifth or sixth year. Thorndike in his recent investigations 
puts the number of graduates at one-fifth. Ayres, whose 
statistical study in "Laggards in Our Schools" insists on 
greater accuracy, tells us that one-half of the children who 
enter our city schools usually graduate. Figures vary, there- 
fore, from twenty to almost fifty per cent. ; the highest figures, 
however, are sad enough. Reproducing graphically the facts 
that Ayres found, we have the following diagram: 



Grades Elem. School 



High School 



100 
90 
80 
70 
60 
50 
40 
30 
20 
10 



1 


2 


3 


4 


5 


6 


7 


8 




/ 






C\ 


II 


III 


IV> 



















































































































































































































































Here we note that only fifty per cent, complete the eighth 
grade, thirty per cent, drop out in the sixth and the seventh 
years, only ten per cent, graduate from high schools, despite 
the fact that almost fifty per cent, begin secondary studies. 
It is interesting to see that more children drop out in grades 
six and seven than in the transfer from elementary to high 



62 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

school. A continued study of the graph brings new and 
varied facts depending upon the practical school experience 
of the reader. 

Woodward sums up his studies of elimination in the 
schools in the following diagram. In it we find represented 
the schools of the whole country, rural as well as city systems, 
for the year 1901 (U. S. Ed. Report, p. 1367). 



Kg. 1 Gr. 2 Gr. 3 Gr. 4 Gr. 5 Gr. 6 Gr. 7 Gr. 8 Gr. 1 H.S.2P.S.3 H.S.4 H.S. 



13000 

12000 

11000 

10O00 

9000 

8000 

7000 

6000 

5000 

4000 

3000 

2000 

1000 































U297C 


1 


























1123? 




























,1008? 




























9134 










































































































5677 






















































3012 




























£143 




























,1468 




























,733 


353 


255 


,214 



How much more disheartening are these figures, showing 
a continuous elimination of pupils even before the end of the 
fifth grade! In the cities there is a fair degree of attendance 
through the five years because of the greater- ease in enforc- 
ing the compulsory education law. What a persistent decline 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 63 

do we see here ! With only seven hundred thirty-three 
out of every twelve thousand nine hundred seventy chil- 
dren entering high school, only five per cent, of the school 
population of this country are receiving a secondary educa- 
tion ! The figures of educational mortality are impressive, 
indeed, if not thoroughly alarming. 

Causes of Elimination. — What are the causes of this elim- 
ination in the grades? We may ascribe them, among others, 
to (1) Retardation. Children are held over in grades; they 
become too old to feel that there is any possibility of grad- 
uating, and leave therefore at the age of fourteen. There are 
six million children in the United States who are annually 
retarded or held over. Thirty-three per cent, of our children 
belong to this grade. New York City spends twelve per cent, 
of its school appropriation on its repeaters. The additional 
causes are (2) Incapacity for intellectual work; (3) Poverty; 
(4) Parents' lack of culture and their low standard of edu- 
cation and living; (5) Lack of interest in school work. Of 
these five, two interest us most in this connection, viz., "In- 
capacity for intellectual work" and "Lack of interest in 
school work"; these must receive our closer attention for 
remedial measures are possible. Through vocationalized edu- 
cation we can give these children that work which they are 
capable of performing, and in which they are manifestly in- 
terested because they realize its value for their future wel- 
fare. 

How can Education Counteract these Causes? — Wood- 
ward, in speaking of the children eliminated in the grades, 
tells us: "Their controlling interests are not in committing 
to memory the printed page ; not even the arithmetic serves 
to reconcile them to school hours and school duties. They long 
to grasp things with their own hands; they burn to test the 
strength of materials and the magnitude of forces, to match 
their cunning and the cunning of nature." The "Outlook" 
(May 19, 190G), in commenting upon the Massachusetts Report 
on Technical Education, says: "The salient features of the 
commission's report are that the first years of employment 



64 Education as Physiological Adjust unlit 

of those children who commence work at fourteen or fifteen 
are often wasted years ; that the children leave school because 
neither they nor their parents see any practical value in 
remaining there, but that a larger majority of the parents 
could afford to keep their children in school a year or two 
longer, and would do so if they had an opportunity of secur- 
ing a training which would make for industrial efficiency." 
These are the conclusions of the commission, reached after a 
personal examination of fifty-five hundred children who left 
school and were one year at work. The evidence given by the 
children was verified in a further examination of three 
thousand parents. We must not conclude that vocational 
training would be an immediate cure for the great problem 
of elimination in the grades. It is fair to conclude that it 
would greatly minimize the problem and reduce the number 
when we find high school attendances increased by fifty per 
cent, after its introduction, when we see the improvements 
that followed immediately after the opening of the indus- 
trial and vocational schools in Chicago and Milwaukee and 
other centers in the Middle West. 

Vocational Training and Criminality. — To those who have 
thought little along sociological lines or who take the old 
theological conception of innate wickedness, there can be no 
connection between vocational training and criminality. Nev- 
ertheless a moment's examination will show an intimate 
connection between the two. The individual who has his life 
work mapped out, who has an asset in life in the form of skill 
and knowledge of a craft or vocation, who has felt the dignity 
and the seriousness of life, is on the road to become a desir- 
able and productive member of his community. Sociologists, 
trained students of criminology and of social relief will read- 
ily indorse such a contention. We know that of forty-three 
hundred forty convicts in the State of Massachusetts at the 
time of investigation, twenty-nine hundred ninety-one, or 
sixty-eighl per cent., were without any vocation or occupa- 
tion; of two hundred twenty adult convicts sentenced to 
hard labor for that year one hundred forty-seven had no 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 65 

trade. During a recent year, eighty-eight per cent, of the 
penitentiary convicts of Pennsylvania were never appren- 
ticed to any trade. Gillett, in summarizing Morrison's re- 
port on England, tells us that seventy-seven per cent, of the 
juvenile offenders and seventy-five per cent, of the adult pris- 
oners were without definite vocation. We have the authority 
of Booker T. "Washington for the fact that "ninety per cent, 
of the colored people in southern prisons are without knowl- 
edge of any trade." In the Elmira Reformatory there were 
sixty-six hundred forty-one indeterminate sentences up to 
1895; of these forty-three hundred sixty-nine were paroled. 
Before parole was granted each prisoner acquired a vocation 
and was given a definite means of finding himself in the 
industrial and commercial world. What are the results? 
Eighty-three per cent, are reported as reformed, leading 
honest, useful lives, and fifteen and seven-tenths per cent 
returned to their previous criminal practices. Vocational 
training is no patent-medicine remedy to cure all social ills, 
but it has reclaimed eighty-three per cent, of the wayward 
young men ; it is giving each unfortunate an effective weapon 
with which he can fight the anti-social forces in his environ- 
ment that tend to drag him down to ruin and desolation. In 
the light of these figures we may give hearty accord to Carroll 
D. Wright's words: "Labor properly remunerated is an ef- 
fective guarantee against the commission of crime. . . 
The kind of labor that requires most skill on the part of the 
workman to perform insures him most perfectly against want 
and crime, as a rule. . . . It is statistically true that 
enough knowledge to be of value in increasing the amount 
and quality of work done, to give character, to some extent 
at least, to a person's tastes and aspirations, is a better safe- 
guard against the inroads of crime than any code of crim- 
inal laws." (Ency. of Social Reform.) Henderson, in his 
"Dependents, Defectives and Delinquents," is even more em- 
phatic in his conclusion. "One thing shines out clearly from 
the record thus far studied ; that the lack of instruction in 
manual and trade processes and of personal, moral and 



66 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

spiritual influences, must be charged with much of the ten- 
dency to crime." 

Democracy and Vocational Training. — The ultimate hope 
of democracy lies in education. A consideration of the small 
numbers whose education extends beyond the elementary 
stages places this hope and salvation in the public school sys- 
tem. We are constantly confronted with the absolute inequal- 
ity among mankind ; it is necessary that we recognize our 
helplessness in the face of the inequalities of nature's bounty. 
Because there is absolutely no equality of abilities, a true 
democracy seeks to afford an equality of opportunities for 
each individual to reach out and attain the highest plane 
within his scope. An ideal democracy strives constantly to 
give to each the tools of self-help, the means of realizing the 
highest of human goals, personal independence and self-direc- 
tion, for only then will each individual stand out in the full 
glory of his bigness. 

V. Ethical Gains Through Manual and Vocational Training 

Character Influence of Manual and Vocational Work. — 
Aside from their psychological, socological, economic, and 
educational needs, manual and vocational training have a 
character influence upon the child. All manual work tends 
to develop habits of accuracy, neatness, and care. When one 
is "nearly right" in most intellectual work, a fair result is 
obtained. The child who is "almost right" in a composition, 
a history or geography recitation, has done commendable 
work. No such loose standard can be tolerated in manual 
work. The parts must fit absolutely, the measurements must 
be accurate to a fine degree, otherwise the results show imper- 
fections standing out in no mistakable terms. But it must be 
remembered that accuracy, neatness, and care will usually be 
exercised by children only when they are working on some- 
thing they like and whose need they feel. These qualities are 
cultivated and called forth only when there is a motive for 
them. The child who is driving nails into a piece of wood 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 67 

merely to practice the proper method of driving nails, the 
child who is sewing on a bit of cloth making nothing, merely 
illustrating technical stitches, usually does not do neat, ac- 
curate careful work. What need is there for these qualities? 
The same child shows infinitely more pains when constructing 
a dog-house for his pet, or a dress for her doll. A drill lessoa 
in penmanship is usually not an exercise of unusual care. 
Blots, erasures, unsymmetrical strokes, and other evidences 
bespeak the carelessness in the drill. The dictation or the 
ink copy of the composition is usually free from this kind of 
inaccuracy because it is a real task, not a meaningless drill. 
"We adults are not always neat for the sake of being neat. We 
show care, accuracy, neatness when we must submit work to 
others, or when we are making something for ourselves that is 
to be used by us. Children show this same attitude and are 
actuated by the same motive in their own work. 

Concentration and close application are additional results 
which manual training will give. Children spend long periods 
at their manual work, and apply themselves to no small degree 
when they become absorbed in their tasks. Since this is the 
work which appeals to them, and which their ultra-active 
motor centers prompt, they give themselves up willingly, and 
learn to concentrate until all obstacles are overcome and they 
triumph in actual execution. 

Self-confidence is another inestimable character result of 
this work. This feeling of self-reliance which is thus fostered 
is constantly seen in the desire children show to work things 
out for themselves; they resent any interference or offer of 
help. It is a wholesome desire which is responsible for bigger 
endeavors and greater accomplishments in the future. 

Mutual help is an absolute essential in manual work. In 
no lesson is mutual help so needed, so readily given, so often 
sought and so possible in the school. A child is constantly 
seeking its neighbor's opinion on various points connected 
with the work and its accompanying difficulties. ' ' Is the line 
straight?" "Is the fit good?" "Will he help hold the wood as 
he fastens it?" "Will his neighbor allow him to use his or her 



68 Erf neat 'ion as Physiological Adjustment 

knife, scissors, tools?" — these are a few of a host of necessary 
requests. No good manual-training lesson can be given 
without permission to talk; no school shop should have such 
discipline as will make the giving of mutual help and sug- 
gestions impossible. 

A lofty character result of manual training and vocational 
education is the inculcation of respect for labor. We may 
talk, explain, and praise manual labor, tell how Moses was a 
shepherd, the Prophets each worked at a trade, Jesus was 
the son of a carpenter, and St. Paul a tent maker, but there 
is only one effective means of bringing home to a child that 
hand labor is as worthy and dignified as mental work, — let 
teacher and child spend a period or two a day in the shop 
working together with sleeves rolled up and arms bared. 
Nothing convinces the child so quickly and so positively as 
action. Manual training can be made a true bond of feeling 
between children of various classes, of different sympathies 
and outlooks. It can be made the most efficient force for 
inculcating in children a spirit of democracy, which in the 
final analysis of ultimate results is one of the basic justifica- 
tions of our school system. It is the means which makes the 
son of the rich man work side by side with the son of the 
poor man, which teaches simply, honestly, convincingly the 
respect due labor, the true dignity which must crown manual 
toil. But the hope of Felix Adler, "The two classes of so- 
ciety, united at the root, will never therefore grow asunder" 
— though noble indeed, seems far too ambitious a result to be 
achieved by manual education. 

Another very notable ethical gain that can be achieved 
through a vigorous prosecution of the manual training cur- 
riculum is the inculcation of a property sense. The pro- 
prietary feeling, the right to property, the security of owner- 
ship of what is truly and honestly one's own, — these are at 
the basis of our social organization; they have called into 
existence our laws, government, and machinery of social con- 
trol. The child who has produced something by giving to it 
his skill, his personality, his patience, and his time taken 



Manual Training and Vocational Education 69 

from play, feels that the object created is in every sense his 
own. Only those who experience an honest sense of owner- 
ship can really feel the necessary respect for the property of 
others. The child is too often a one-sided communist, "what 
is yours is mine, what is mine is mine," is his philosophy of 
property. This property sense is therefore an essential and 
a vital element in the moral equipment that we must give 
our children. 

Caution in Character Value of Manual Training. — But we 
must not go too far. Manual training has its advantages and 
is an educational need to-day. With all due deference to its 
influence, manual training has its limitations. Many modern 
enthusiasts hold that manual training is an effective means 
of inculcating virtue and social morality. It teaches the child 
concretely the need of truth and precision, for the child sees 
that unless the wood is cut to an exact measure, unless the 
cloth or other working materials are faithfully matched and 
sized, the result will not be right; the fit will be wrong, the 
various parts will be out of gear. The child learns definitely 
the demand for exactness in the physical world. This con- 
ception the child carries over to his relations in the social 
world, realizing the need for truth and the utter danger in 
falsehood and deception, which are forms of inaccuracy, inten- 
tional or otherwise. Let us quote from Felix Adler: "It 
is true, there are influences in manual training favorable to a 
virtuous disposition. Squareness in things is not without its 
relation to squareness in action and in thinking. A child that 
has learned to be exact, that is, truthful, in his work, will be 
predisposed to be scrupulous and truthful in his speech, in 
his thought, in his action." Our only answer is: "What does 
experience say?" We know full well that truth and exact- 
ness vary with the content, hence truth in manual work is not 
truth in social action. Accuracy in manual work is no guar- 
antee of accuracy in social relations. It is the exaggeration of 
the importance of any one idea that has made the educator 
an unconscious source of humor and has tended to discredit 
his position in practical matters. Manual training is iinpor* 



70 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

taut and potent in its educational influences, but it is not the 
center of the educational firmament, nor will it usher in a new 
moral era. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Dewey. Solwol and Society, Chaps. 1 and 2. 
Dopp. Place of Industries in Education. 
Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 4. 

Carlton. Education and Industrial Evolution. 

Dean. The Worker and the State. 

Gillett. Vocational Education. 

Hanus. Beginnings in Industrial Education, Chaps. 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. 

Kerschensteiner. Eeport on Schools of Munich. 

Person. Industrial Education. 



CHAPTER V 

PHYSICAL EDUCATION THROUGH PLAY, GYMNASTICS, 
AND ATHLETICS 

The general topic under consideration is the means of 
physiological development that will aid in the adjustment to 
the physical environment. Thus far we have concentrated on 
manual training and vocational education. We come now to 
more direct physical education through (1) Play, (2) Gym- 
nastics, and (3) Athletics. Let us see how we make the tran- 
sition. 

Our muscles can be grouped under two heads. The first 
group contains the peripheral muscles, which are found about 
the sense organs, and in the fingers; they are the smaller 
muscles that guide in all skilful activities. These peripheral 
muscles are controlled by. the cerebrum, the brain proper. 
Manual training seeks to develop these. The second group of 
muscles is the fundamentals. They are the large muscles that 
are used in free movements like walking, running, pulling, 
and lifting. Their control is usually placed in the lower brain 
centers, especially the spinal cord. Play, Gymnastics, and 
Athletics are designed to develop them. Manual training 
cannot, therefore, be given without fatiguing the brain as 
well as the body and the muscles. Play, Gymnastics, and 
Athletics relieve the brain of most of its intense activity and 
control ; they attempt a more definite form of physical devel- 
opment. Our next topic is hence the first of the three means 
of physiological development, Play. 

General Facts Concerning Growth of Children. — All bodily 
growth is an increase in size due to either of two causes, to 
an increase in the number of cells or to an increase in the 

71 



72 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

size of the cells. After birth an increase in the number of cells 
is rare, hence the growth of children is due to the increase 
in the size of the cells. An adult has the same number of 
cells as an infant; the difference lies in their size and energy. 
To make a cell grow three conditions are essential, viz., (1) 
rational exercise, use, purposeful function; (2) nutrition, 
proper food; (3) air. Education in devoting itself to the 
physical welfare of the individual seeks to give two of these 
conditions — exercise and proper air. 

But each body and each organ have definitely fixed limits 
to which they can attain in their growth. Great care must 
be taken to recognize that the limit of growth has been 
reached, for further exercise which seeks a development that 
transcends this natural limit may prove injurious. At no time 
must we over-emphasize the physical training of the growing 
child, for its temporary limit may be reached. To forge ahead 
of nature works irreparable injury to the individual. Too 
rapid growth is almost as sure a sign of poor health as slow 
and retarded development. Premature development is a sign 
of weakness, "whereas slow maturing is usually a sign of 
superior mentality," and power, gradually gaining the force 
and the momentum of a strong mind. 

The general law which we must posit for physical devel- 
opment is that as powers and organs begin to make manifest 
their growth and activity, proper exercises must be assigned 
to utilize them. Just as soon as the child shows that he has 
a new faculty, proper provision must be made to exercise it ; 
otherwise it will not develop, but will become stunted and 
dwarfed through neglect. Nature, then, determines the order 
of exercise. Since the child is first merely concentrated activ- 
ity, anxiously craving to express itself, to do something, the 
earliest physical training takes the form of free play. As the 
nerve centers and muscles become stronger, and give the indi- 
vidual better control of his body, gymnastics is added. When 
a fair degree of strength has been developed, athletics sup- 
plements mere gymnastic movement and serves to add new 
interest and zeal to bodily training. Hence we begin with 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 



play, the first member in this trio of means for physiological 
development. 

Play 

Nature of Play. — Play is denned as a spontaneous physical 
expression of the individuality. Its true nature and purpose 
we can understand best if we see first what play is not. Since 
its direct opposite is work, let us place work and play in 
contrast to see the true nature of each : 



Play 

1. An activity whose di- 
rect result is of little conse- 
quence. What the child 
creates in his game is as 
valueless to him as to others. 

2. The activity itself gives 
us pleasure. 



Work 
1. An activity in which the 
result is useful either to the 
individual or to society. 
Work is therefore serious. 



2. Pleasure is found in the 
end, the result of work, but 
seldom, if ever, in the process. 

3. Work is always care- 
fully chosen, for the specific 
end in view must be achieved. 
It is therefore deliberative 
rather than spontaneous. 

4. It exercises a few defi- 
nite parts of the body. It 
usually entails repetition of 
an activity and lacks the va- 
riety and life of play. 

5. It demands all available 
energy, because we usually 
cannot stop at signs of ex- 
haustion, but must continue 
beyond the point where there 
can no longer be any possible 
pleasure in the activity. 

Conclusion. — Play is therefore a natural spontaneous activ- 
ity, while work is forced. Play means pleasure, although it 
6 



3. It is freely chosen for 
its own sake. It is therefore 
spontaneous. 



4. It exercises no definite 
part or parts of the body. It 
seeks change and variety in 
activity. 

5. It uses only that energy 
which is given off freely; it 
stops when the body shows 
signs of fatigue or the mind 
experiences diminished pleas- 
ure. 



74 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

may demand a greater amount of physical exertion and 
strenuousness. The problem for the elementary school is 
therefore to inculcate the spirit of play in the regular course 
of work. In their play children carry heavy stones, pile up 
snow walls until their hands freeze, dig and shovel sand 
until their palms are calloused. Yet they do not consider 
these activities arduous work, but play. This attitude is de- 
termined by the fact that they see reason and purpose in 
their activity. School work cannot and should not become 
play, but some of the spontaneity and pleasure of play can 
be infused into the serious class work by making it as natural 
and necessary as play. A good illustration of this suggestion 
is embodied in the following class-room observation. A 
teacher of a special "working paper" class could not arouse 
an interest in local geography. The children found the task 
of learning streets, ferries, railroad terminals, arduous and 
dull. The teacher then made several of the children come 
into the room and apply for the position of errand boy. 
The teacher impersonated the employer, the child the appli- 
cant. Said the employer to the boy, after he had asked pre- 
liminary questions of name, age, etc. : "If I sent you to Duane 
Street, and then to Cortlandt Street, how many carfares would 
you need?" The applicant said three, and when asked why, 
showed that he did not know the location of the streets. 
"Won't do," was the verdict, and a second applicant, who 
knew these streets, was accepted. The children then realized 
that knowing streets and locations is essential. The teacher 
had no difficulty in getting these children to spend Saturday 
and Sunday in filling in on an outline map the names of the 
streets they visited. The lesson was now a source of "fun," 
because they saw the need of this knowledge, and set at the 
work with unusual avidity. Local geography taught from 
blackboard outlines and note-book summaries, Lacks the life 
and the spirit of such a lesson. These children were learning 
their home geography in the right way. and therefore enjoyed 
the process. It is an illustration of what we an by intro- 
ducing the play element into work, without turning the school 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 75 

studies into play. Having seen the negative aspect of play, 
we must now turn to its positive nature. 

Play as an Intellectual Influence. — The older educators saw 
in play only what we have seen in it thus far, a free, spon- 
taneous activity which is, par excellence, a means of giving 
mental rest and recreation. Aside from this function, the old 
idea held that play had no intellectual use. To-day we see 
play in a wider sphere of educational influence. Froebel was 
the first educator to successfully refute the old conception of 
play, and show that the activity drained off in play can be 
directed so that the results are educationally useful. To util- 
ize the activity of the child he organized the kindergarten, 
with its work in elementary sense training. By playing with 
various blocks, paper, ribbons, beads, and the other kinder- 
garten "gifts," the child acquires the elementary color, form, 
and size perceptions. Through play the child mind receives 
its first training in elementary mental activities and learns to 
know the essentials of the concrete world about him. All 
play, furthermore, necessitates the use of imagination, "the 
make-believe" activity; all play relies upon memory of the 
sequence of events in the game. Play, therefore, becomes a 
means of training in perception, of exercising the imagina- 
tion and retentive powers. Play, then, is an intellectual as 
well as a physical force in education. 

Play as a Socializing Influence. — Play has an added educa- 
tional value because it tends to develop the social nature of the 
egotistic child. Play loses its zest and pleasure when the child 
must play alone. Its real spirit comes from competition and 
intercourse with others. But unless the child is willing to 
curb his own personality, to subordinate his own selfish desires, 
he cannot play with others. The child of four or five is ex- 
tremely individualistic; he must be the moving spirit, he 
therefore resents interference of any kind in his game; hence 
the very young child usually plays alone with his toys. The 
early games of children are therefore "unorganized, non-com- 
petitive and non-cooperative." The child of eight or ten is 
more often found in games with others, he submits to simple 



76 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

rules, and lives up to them as well as he can, in order that he 
may enjoy the society of his playmates. 

The child of thirteen or fourteen has learned the meaning 
and function of laws in games, and willingly yields to them. 
Games of boys and girls of this age are positively complex 
with varied regulations. Such children are usually intolerant 
of one who deviates from the prescribed path. This is the 
period of team-playing, in which children sacrifice themselves 
and their glory for the benefit of the group. The individuat- 
ing nature is now under control. 

The play of pre-adolescents does more than merely develop 
their social nature; it teaches obedience to sanctioned author- 
ity; it gives rise to the social life of the gang. Once a child 
has established his leadership obedience is easily secured from 
the others. Children will often do gladly for their leader what 
they would consider irksome if demanded by teacher or 
parent. They strive to ingratiate themselves in his esteem. 
Gang life and game groups abound with illustrations of sac- 
rifices that children make in their endeavor to show obe- 
dience and even submission to the leader. 

This is therefore a period when we have the best oppor- 
tunity of bringing home the meaning and importance of 
law, of living up to the social standard, if we mean to safe- 
guard our own rights and not trespass on those of others. In 
the class-room we talk of these things in ethics lessons, in 
history, in literature, in discipline ; but in the end the im- 
pression is vague, for this verbal appeal, however vivid, is in 
the final analysis an abstraction. In play the need of obe- 
dience to law is very concrete; disobedience and disregard of 
law show their effects in a way that the child not only under- 
stands, but also remembers, for the lessons are brought home 
to him in unmistakable terms. 

Play is therefore a means of giving mental rest and 
recreation, a force which has a distinct educational bear- 
ing both in its effects upon the intellect and upon the will ; 
it is an activity which develops the social nature of the 
child. 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 77 

Origin of Play Instinct. — Since this play instinct is so uni- 
versal and lias so significant a bearing on our educational 
problem, it may be well to inquire into its origin. No two 
educators agree in their conceptions, yet each urges his as the 
only true explanation of the cause. The first serious explana- 
tion was given by Spencer. His explanation is called the 
Surplus Energy Theory. He held that the child is a mass of 
activity and impulse which needs constant draining. The 
body in its normal condition produces more energy than it 
needs. AH the organs creating vitality, heart, lung, digestive 
apparatus, have a large margin for safety, a surplus of energy 
to expend. It is estimated that at times the energy is ten 
times the amount necessary to be expended. "The blood 
must be oxygenated in order to reduce man below the peril of 
excessive, explosive, ecstatic, hysterical vigor." To use up 
this surplus energy we play. "We play lest we rack to pieces, 
burn up with too much energy. We play in order to get 
tired." This theory explains why children play more than 
older folks, and why the games of the former are more phys- 
ical than those of the latter. But at best it regards play as 
a negative or secondary force. 

A second explanation of the origin of the play impulse is 
called the Preparatory Theory of Groos. This German thinker 
believes that every form of play is suggestive of the instincts 
of the race, and seeks to prepare the individual for the life 
that he is to lead. The animal in its playfulness goes through 
activities which form part of its later serious life. The kit- 
ten crouching before the rolling spool, the pup jumping at a 
stranger in its eagerness to receive some attention, the lion 
cub playfully pretending ferocity toward its little brother 
cub, all these are merely practicing in play, activities and 
reactions in which they must become proficient during later 
life. Thus the boy in his games plays such things as require 
hunting, attacking, defending; he drives a team, plays at 
soldier, fireman or policeman. The girl with her doll plays 
at being mother, school teacher or nurse. Play thus becomes 
a preparation for the life we are to lead in mature years. 



78 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

To quote Kirkpatrick: "Each instinct before it appears is 
thus developed and perfected by playful activity before it is 
to be used seriously." 

The theory is fanciful and pretty ; it is accepted by very 
many leading educators. But it is nevertheless far-fetched 
and gives one the feeling of being unreal. If we were to 
accept this view, and direct the games of our children accord- 
ingly, we would rob them of their free spontaneous character 
and introduce a seriousness which would be fatal. When a 
boy plays at fireman, at policeman, at soldier, he is merely imi- 
tating those about him. Numerous experiments with animals 
and a detailed study of instincts in the lower forms have 
recently shown that those activities which we believe to be 
inborn are acquired through imitation of the parent animal. 

A third explanation which is often given is known as the 
Recreation Theory. This view maintains that play is only the 
natural reaction to the seriousness and intensity of life. 
Its sole aim is to give relief, because, Home explains: "The 
tightened strings of the instrument must be loosed up." 
As an offset to this seriousness, and nerve-strung existence, 
play comes as the alleviator and reliever. But life is not a 
very serious problem to children, yet they play most. . It is 
exceedingly grave to the adult, but he plays least. Society 
idlers are hardly leading a life of serious, nervous strain, 
nevertheless they are constantly seeking diversion. This 
theory has many grave exceptions which forbid its universal 
acceptance as an explanation of all forms of play. 

Another theory is often advanced to explain play. Its 
author is Lazarus, the German educator. We must not con- 
fuse this explanation with the Recreation Theory, as has 
been done. Lazarus believes that the mind has a natural 
aversion for idleness. It hates to be disengaged. When, 
therefore, man is unoccupied his mind seeks a sham occupa- 
tion, a make-believe vocation, in order to keep busy. This is 
play. According to this view play is not explained in terms 
of recreation, for instead of being a reaction against hard 
work, it is caused by a lack of it. The child, free from seri- 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 79 

ous mental occupation, naturally seeks employment through 
various forms of play. The same circumstance holds true 
with the social idler. This view of Lazarus emphasizes a pri- 
mary principle of discipline that all teachers know, but some- 
times forget, viz., at all times all children must have definite 
work assigned, for if we do not keep them busy, they will, in 
their attempt to keep themselves occupied, often keep us busy. 

General Criticism and Conclusion. — All these theories try 
to explain play in toto. Much of what each says is true, yet 
no one contains the whole truth. They serve, nevertheless, 
an important function, for they all point to the need of em- 
phasizing play in the school curriculum and giving it its place 
in our scheme of physical education. They show us that play 
is part of childhood itself, the most sacred right of youth. 

One of the tragedies of modern city life is therefore the 
lack of facilities for play. The child in its attempt to give 
vent to this most urgent and instinctive craving is constantly 
coming into conflict with authority, and is regarded as an 
enemy of adult law and order. City life is organized repres- 
sion of childhood. In this light the playground movement, 
which is spreading throughout the country, is most necessary 
and promising for the childhood of our land. The committee 
on Small Parks in New York, in its report, says: "With a 
common accord precinct captains attribute the existence of the 
juvenile rowdyism to the lack of better playgrounds than 
the streets." The London report reads: "Crime in our large 
cities is to a great extent simply a question of athletics." A 
high police official in Philadelphia bears testimony to this 
fact. He observes : ' ' The great enemy of the police is the boy 
in his endeavor to satisfy the burning desire for play." 

Gymnastics 

Its Nature. — The second means of physical education — 
gymnastics — may be defined as consciously directed physi- 
cal exercise. From this very formal definition we see that as 
a means of bodily training it is totally different from play. 
"We can perhaps understand its essential characteristics more 



80 Education as Physiological Adjustment 



clearly by outlining in greater detail the difference between 
play and gymnastics. 



Play 

1. It is a free and spon- 
taneous form of expressing 
the physical nature. 

2. It exercises some parts 
of the body, but which or- 
gans and muscles receive the 
benefit of this training is 
wholly a matter of accident. 

3. Its aim is relief and 
recreation. 

4. It gives pleasure and 
therefore requires little or no 
will power. 



Gymnastics 

1. As a rule gymnastics is 
far from spontaneous; it is 
ci msciously directed in its 
whole development. 

2. It seeks regular, sys- 
tematic exercise of the mus- 
cles and organs wdiich make 
for a developed body. 

3. It aims to achieve har- 
monious physical develop- 
ment. 

4. It gives little or no 
pleasure, and, at times, may 
cause discomfort; it necessi- 
tates will power to no incon- 
siderable degree. 



Conclusion for Bodily Development. — From these points of 
divergence we readily conclude that these two means are dia- 
metrically opposite in aim and in spirit. But each of them 
has its special important endeavor and function, each its sepa- 
rate scope. The conclusion is, therefore, obvious that gym- 
nastics should never supplant play but should be introduced 
and kept supplementary to it throughout the school course. 
The need of continuing play far longer in the physical cur- 
ricula than is done in most courses becomes apparent when 
we see the limitations of gymnastics in the elementary school. 
Misconception of the Function of Gymnastics. — That act 
which we like to do gives us greater bodily and mental bene- 
fit than that which we perform from a sense of duty or co- 
ercion. A pleasurable activity may require far more energy 
and nevertheless be less exhaustive. All agreeable tasks work 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 81 

along the line of least resistance, the line of greatest attrac- 
tion and easiest natural activity. Disagreeable acts -take the 
line of greatest resistance, and hence bring fatigue in a com- 
paratively short time. For the elementary class-room purpose, 
play is better than gymnastics because it gives pleasure and 
recreation. It brings complete relief from work. 

In the gymnastic drill the strain of class-room work is not 
only continued but often intensified. We demand that all 
children act in unison, the attention must be keen, the work 
thoroughly systematic. After an hour and a half or two of 
class studies, in which the child is suppressed, the natural 
tendency is to break out, to be free and unfettered. When 
that time comes we offer the regular set of movements, breath- 
ing to counts, stretching upward and sideways, bending trunk, 
knees, etc., exercises which, in theory, counteract all the in- 
jurious defects of posture resulting from the protracted reci- 
tation periods. But the spirit of the drill is decidedly op- 
posed to what the child wants and needs. He has been sub- 
dued and suppressed; he wants free, spontaneous movements 
without regard to time, order, sequence. He wants disci- 
pline and control removed. He wants freedom and liberty 
in the fullest sense. 

Why Gymnastics Often Fails in Class Room. — The child 
goes through the drill from a sense of duty. Each action is 
meaningless. If he does not think, he loses count, he is out of 
time, and is reprimanded or punished. At the end of a physi- 
cal training lesson under a strict disciplinarian the child is 
just as tired mentally, just as strained emotionally, as before 
it. On resuming work the teacher finds that the ten minutes 
have not given the relief, the rest, and the recreation that were 
expected. With a weak disciplinarian this limitation of the 
gymnastic lesson is not so apparent. The attention and the 
responses are not accompanied by the same strain, the child 
has a little liberty and ease, a liberty and ease, however, 
which are not granted, but taken. Such a period gives the 
child some relief. The moral is not "Be a weak disciplina- 
rian." It points clearly to the fact that the gymnastic drill 



82 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

is systematic, regular, and seeks to exercise and develop each 
part of the body ; but it does not give that needed mental 
rest and relaxation that the child craves. The daily physical 
exercises must make ample provision for play, and must give 
to it as much time each day as is given to gymnastics, if not 
more. Play, by completely relieving the mind, will intensify 
its activity when class work is resumed. The teacher who has 
absolute control of her class will find it an interesting com- 
parison to study her class after a regular fifteen-minute calis- 
thenic drill on one day, and after a three or five-minute whis- 
pering period on the next, when the children are allowed to 
walk about the room, talk to friends, stand about, gossip and 
jest, even as we do. Although the time may be one-third or 
one-fifth of the calisthenics period, the complete relief will 
make children more alive as we begin our next study lesson. 
What sad and solemn faces we see before us as a class 
is laboriously going through the gymnastic drills to the teach- 
er's count, under the teacher's surveillance! The various 
grades have time allotted for these drills, but what provision 
is made for play? Above the fourth year, when the recess 
is usually discontinued, a game period is a rarity. We must 
remember that the few minutes of calisthenics per day will 
not result in harmonious bodily development. These periods 
are given in the hope of affording mental relief and rest. But 
play, in its very nature, rather than gymnastics is designed to 
do this. The conclusion for the school is obvious: less calis- 
thenics and more play would give better and happier work. 



Athletics 

Conditions of Modern Athletics. — Our study brings us now 
to the final means of bodily training, athletics. In the im- 
mediate past it has received little scientific attention and 
study; it was allowed to develop in its own way without con- 
trol or guidance until it has become the leasl effective of these 
three means of physical training, and hardly merits a co- 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 83 

ordinate place with gymnastics and play. Gymnastics has 
been studied and systematized. Its development shows order 
and rationality, beginning with movements and exercises that 
are simple and elementary, gradually advancing until it in- 
cludes, in the course of its increasing complexity, the train- 
ing and strengthening of each of the necessary muscles. But 
athletics is more or less chaotic. It lacks beginning and end; 
it has no scientific development. The limitations of athletics 
are not due to its recency, for it is by no means a modern 
medium of bodily development. It reached a high state of 
efficiency in Greece and in Rome. It has attained consider- 
able efficiency, to-day, in many of the older countries. Nor 
must we assume that it has outlived its usefulness; it has 
merely degenerated and needs regeneration. 

Nature of Athletics. — What is athletics and how does it 
differ from gymnastics? Athletics has been defined as exer- 
cises which show a combination of gymnastic and play ele- 
ments, indulged in for the purpose of winning, usually for a 
particular group. Athletics realizes that gymnastic move- 
ments are dull and tedious. Because the child sees no object 
in the various systematized movements in which he is drilled, 
the spirit of contest, competition, and emulation is intro- 
duced. Interest and life are thus infused, for now every 
movement seems to have a goal — to win for the team or insti- 
tution. 

The difference between gymnastics and athletics is one of 
spirit. Gymnastics is severe, disciplinary, formal; it seeks 
only a harmonious development of the body. Athletics, on the 
contrary, is the fullest expression of the play instinct; it is 
freer than gymnastics; it invariably gives pleasure and 
arouses keen delight or bitter disappointment. Athletics re- 
vives childish interests with their love of playful competition 
and rivalry. It makes adults of children ; it also makes chil- 
dren of adults by introducing a serious interest in activity 
that is inconsequential. 

Educators rarely discuss athletics with any marked degree 
of calmness and equilibrium ; their views are extreme and 



84 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

biased; they are the results of bitter prejudice. In recent 
years a storm of protest has been raised against athletics, 
its inefficiency and abuses. Athletics is becoming a serious 
factor in the present school curriculum in physical training. 
It bids fair to gain in importance in the immediate future. 
What are the counts in the indictment against athlet- 
ics? Does it merit the sacrifice of time and energy that 
teachers are making for it? Certain definite advantages 
are urged for athletics by its devotees. To these we must 
now turn. 

The Case for Athletics. — The first advantage claimed for 
athletics is that it develops an institutional spirit. In the 
athletic contest the standing of the school is threatened. 
Whatever interest and loyalty the children have for their 
school are brought out on the athletic field. When our coun- 
try is in danger, patriotism runs high. In peace, our enthu- 
siasm often subsides, and our loyalty may become dormant. 
So, too, in the hour of trial, all the love and spirit that the 
pupils feel for their school will be aroused. Its success or 
defeat looms up in tremendous proportions to them. They 
are all united by one common bond; all their interests and 
desires are merged into one. Athletics helps make a school 
spirit, helps build up the traditions peculiar to each institu- 
tion. 

That athletics has a wholesome moral influence is urged 
as a second point in its favor. In no other activity must 
the individual forget himself so completely as in athletics. 
Only the athlete knows what self-denial and sacrifice are 
needed "to make a team." It must also be remembered that 
athletics is successful only when emphasis is laid on team 
work rather than individual freedom and personal tactics. 
The player must feel that the glory of the victory belongs 
to the team, not to him. He merges his skill and dexterity 
with those of the other players, for his victory is the school's 
victory. He suppresses his ego for the common good. En- 
thusiasts for athletics tell us that this lesson is impressed so 
deeply that the athlete carries this same spirit of "the com- 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 85 

mon good" into society. Athletics, like play, socializes the 
individual. 

The plea that athletics gives grace, ease of movement, 
better control of body and muscle by the mind is too obvious 
to need elucidation or further comment. 

A final important result of athletics is the power of quick 
decisive action which it cultivates. The various forms of 
athletic games present numberless situations which are criti- 
cal in their nature, for they may turn victory into defeat, or 
vice versa. There is no time for hesitation and deliberation. 
The problem must be solved instantaneously or not at all. In 
practical life there are countless similar situations, far more 
critical and intense in their nature, with greater consequences 
at stake. Quick decisive action is essential; athletics can be- 
stow this gift. 

These are the educational advantages urged with great 
insistence for athletics. Theoretically they are irrefutable. 
But when we look closer into athletics and seek practical re- 
sults we find that not only are these much desired influences 
absent but that entirely unforeseen evils and demoralizing 
tendencies have sprung up. Let u>s turn to the other side of 
the problem and note the disadvantages. 

The Case against Athletics. — It is the common experience 
of every conscientious teacher that very few of the total num- 
ber in a school are benefited by athletics. It is likewise true 
that almost invariably the children who are fairly well grown 
and have attained sufficient development for their age and size 
receive the advantages which athletics has to offer. How often 
are we confronted with the ludicrous sight of the anaemic, 
pale-faced, hollow-chested student lustily cheering the great, 
big, overdeveloped, ungainly athlete? Would it not be more 
sensible to make them change places and give physical train- 
ing where physical training is necessary? We go to ex- 
tremes, we produce overdevelopment on the one hand and 
underdevelopment on the other. 

Athletics usually overemphasizes the winning element and 
thus has a demoralizing influence upon the student-body and 



86 Education as Physiological Adjustment 

the character of the results in the studies. We saw that 
"playing to win" was added as an extra element, as a sec- 
ondary motive, to give life, spirit, and enthusiasm. "Play- 
ing to win" becomes the final goal, the ultimate aim of ath- 
letics. Conscience and honesty are compromised for every 
pett} r advantage. The gambling spirit too often enters into 
academic athletics. The gambler plays solely for the purpose 
of winning. The athletic manager forgets all but victory; 
it is the star to which he hitches his wagon. A superficial 
study of the methods employed in practical athletics is most 
discouraging. In our city school systems, where athletics is 
a much emphasized activity, we find constant charges which 
impute teachers' honesty, and reflect chicanery and char- 
latanism of a most astounding nature. Instances of falsi- 
fying of records, of sending children to Turkish baths to 
reduce in w r eight, of teaching children to take every mean and 
petty advantage of their opponents are not uncommon. Col- 
lege students whose interests in athletics have brought them 
into close contact with all the intercollegiate sports can cite 
examples of dishonesty and knavery which overshadow the 
indictment against public school athletics. Settlements and 
institutions for social service are too often as sullied in their 
athletic records as the colleges and the schools. The survival 
of the slickest, might makes right, are demoralizing lessons 
deeply impressed on our children and young men when "play- 
ing to win" is the all-pervading aim of athletics. 

Another great deficiency in our athletics is the fact that, 
with victory as the ultimate goal, a wrong physiological basis 
obtains. Many enthusiasts fail to see that the object of all 
physical development lies not in the creation of large muscles 
but in the harmonious development of all parts of the bod} r . 
The great endeavor in physical training is to profitably util- 
ize our nervous energy, to build up a proper coordination be- 
tween body and mind, to develop symmetry and regularity, 
to give to each organ and muscle its proper strength. The 
Greeks, with their limited knowledge of scientific physiology, 
had the proper conception, — to develop not brute force, — but 



Play, Gymnastics, and Athletics 87 

a pleasing harmony of the entire body. Overtraining and 
overspecialization, so characteristic of our own athletics, are 
dangerous, for they not only make harmonious development 
impossible but often work a permanent injury by overstrain- 
ing the muscles and the heart. 

The Remedy. — With such an indictment against athletics, 
it would perhaps seem logical to conclude that it ought to be 
eliminated from all educational institutions. But are the ad- 
vantages which may be reaped from athletics to be lost? Did 
they not seem real and possible of attainment? Educators 
and directors of athletics must strive earnestly and persist- 
ently to realize and maintain them. At present there seems 
to be only one radical remedy, viz., the substitution of inter- 
class athletics for interschool athletics. Every school should 
have athletic work, but all games should be confined to the 
classes in the school. Since each class would need a team 
for each form of athletic contest in which it took part, many 
more children would be active participants. The temptation 
for all methods of dubious ethics would come to an end. A 
school and a class spirit could be aroused as surely as in inter- 
institutional contests. The moral value and character influ- 
ence of athletics would be retained. Only then would our 
fondest hope be realized, and athletics would become a worthy 
means of bodily development, giving mental training through 
the muscle. 

SUGGESTED BEADING 

Baldwin. Mental Development (Social and Ethical Interpretation), 

pp. 136-146. 
Drummond. Introduction to Child Study, Chap. 12. 
Hall. Adolescence, Chaps. 1 and 3. 
Horne. Philosophy of Education, Chap. 3. 
Groos. Die Spiele der Menschen. 

Johnson. Education by Plays and Games, Part I, Chaps. 1 and 2. 
Kirkpatrick. Fundamentals of Child Study, Chap. 9. 
Tyler. Growth and Education, Chap. 14. 
Walker. Discussions in Education, pp. 259-289. 



PART III 
EDUCATION AS SOCIOLOGICAL ADJUSTMENT 



x 7 



CHAPTER VI 

THE CHILD AND THE CURRICULUM 

The message which life and evolution have for education 
has been interpreted by biology to mean "adjustment to the 
complete environment." Physiology has reenforced this con- 
ception by making it mandatory upon education to provide 
for the physical needs of the individual because the adjust- 
ment process is not possible without a struggle with the physi- 
cal forces of nature. Society and social organization have a 
message for education, and a legitimate claim upon it. To 
these we must now turn. 

The Meaning of Environment. — The conclusions of the 
previous study have led us to accept the statement, "Educa- 
tion is an adjustment to the complete environment." The 
earlier discussion explained the term "adjustment" more 
fully, to make sure that adjustment is interpreted to mean, 
changing the world to fit the individual rather than a re- 
molding of the individual to harmonize with the impersonal 
world. We must now turn to the second important term in 
this definition, viz., environment. 

Thus far "environment" has been regarded as synony- 
mous with mere surroundings. This rather narrow concep- 
tion sufficed in the discussion of the physiological aspect of 
education. The social view of education demands a deeper 
and broader interpretation than "mere surroundings"; it 
must reflect the past as well as look to the immediate physical 
present. 

In the course of social evolution man made himself master 
of varied experiences. This knowledge he gained at great 
cost, through the sufferings of ages. Surely the new-born 

91 



92 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

member in society need not go through all the trials and trib- 
ulations of his progenitors in order to acquire this informa- 
tion. The newcomer finds the facts and experiences so 
gained awaiting him. All the wisdom which the pioneers of 
civilization gained in their social progress is systematized and 
made ready for his use. \The complete environment for an in- 
dividual is hence the sum total of all necessary racial expe- 
riences. It is this conception of environment that places every 
child on a relatively higher starting plane than his fore- 
fathers. Butler had this social aspect of education in view 
when he gave the definition referred to in an earlier relation, 
"Adjustment to the spiritual possessions of the race." 
Home goes a step further and declares that education is 
"the sharing of the race's life." 

The old generation is hence the teacher of the new. The 
sum total of the experience of the race is handed down from 
generation to generation, but each succeeding heritage is 
richer than the preceding one. Each generation, then, is the 
heir of its predecessors' experiences, adds its own to it, and 
then bequeaths the sum total as a legacy to its successors. 
Education, therefore, is that social force which preserves the 
necessary past, conserves and enriches the present, and pre- 
pares the way for future progress. Education, by adjusting 
the pupil to the history and experiences of the race repro- 
duces in his own mind the mind of the race, and thus makes 
him a rational part of the social body. 

What Has the Individual to Offer for This Adjustment? — 
Thus far the problem has been studied from the social point 
of view, for the question was, "What has society to offer in 
this process of adjustment?" The answer is, "The sum total 
of racial experience." It is now necessary to see what pow- 
ers and resources the individual possesses by means of which 
this adjustment can take place and through whose agency 
he hopes to make himself master of what the race has to 
offer. 

All the spiritual resources and capabilities of the indi- 
vidual are summed up by the term "mind." In reviewing 



The Child and the Curriculum 93 

the evolution of the psychic gifts it was seen that mind func- 
tions in three ways, — as a sensibility, striving to make us con- 
scious of the outside world; as an intellect, reading meaning 
into what is perceived, telling us which goals in the environ- 
ment to attempt to achieve and which to avoid; as a will, 
which controls activity and is responsible for the attainment 
of these chosen ends. The conclusion is therefore that the 
individual brings to society, or to the school — society's formal 
adjusting agent — a mind capable of these three modes of 
functioning: (1) as mere consciousness, (2) as the selective 
agent, (3) as the directive force in life. These three phases 
of the mind are not parts of it, as many of the old psycholo- 
gists seem to indicate ; they are functions of the whole mind. 

How Can the Individual Share in the Life and Experiences 
of the Race? — The next logical question that presents itself 
to the student is, "What means will enable the individual to 
share in the life of the race?" Obviously through the cur- 
riculum. 

The three essential factors in the process of present edu- 
cation are: the child, the curriculum or course of study, and 
the teacher. The curriculum is the medium that brings the 
teacher and the child into direct communication, and creates 
a common meeting ground for the mature intellect of the 
former and the undeveloped mind of the latter. A curricu- 
lum is a body of racial experiences, selected out of the life of 
the race and used as a basis for individual development, for 
the continuance of social standards and institutions, and for 
the preservation of knowledge already acquired. From this 
definition it is evident that the curriculum reflects both the 
individual and the social phases of life. The social function 
of education is emphasized by the fact that the curriculum is 
a part of the mass of the experience through which the race 
has passed, and aims to continue social standards and ideals. 
It emphasizes the development of the individual because it 
seeks to give only such experiences as will minister to his best 
development. The sound curriculum thus incorporates the in- 
dividual into society, it brings the one into the many, it seeks 



5)4 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

to establish an education in which individual training reflects 
social progress. 

The Child and the Curriculum. — An effective course of 
study must be so arranged that the stages of the child's devel- 
opment and the intellectual standards of the curriculum will 
be identical. In other words, fa program of education must be 
so nrranged that it always corresponds to characteristics of 
the various phases of the mental development of the child. 
Does the average course of study recognize this standard? 
Dewey, in his "The Child and the Curriculum," points out 
that there is a wide breach between the child and the curricu- 
lum, for, instead of harmony between the two, there is discord. 
He arranges the divergencies between them under three heads. 
A summary of this indictment is helpful. 

(a) The child lives in a world of actions and things, not of 
thought, laws, and principles; in a world that is full of con- 
crete objects, not abstractions. His is a life in a narrow en- 
vironment, bounded only by his past experience and his lim- 
ited mental faculties. But the curriculum thrusts him into 
studies that transport him into time and space, into a world 
of ideas and abstractions. He studies of a solar system, of 
new continents, of relation of geographic conditions to politi- 
cal and industrial development, of policies of past ages. 
Surely a slow transition is necessary. Is this transition made 
correctly? Is it natural and gradual enough? Is reading 
taught properly by a method that begins by teaching sounds, 
isolated letters, or words, rather than sentences and ideas? 
Is it in harmony with the principle elucidated to begin United 
States history with nine-year-old children by a study of the 
discovery of America in 1492 and the new route to India, as 
all school histories do? How can the child find his bearings in 
these distant topics? How, launching him into the past so 
suddenly, will he be able to find his cardinal points? We 
must always begin with our immediate environment. 

Before the teacher begins the lesson she must always ask 
herself, "Where does this topic touch the child.'" Having 
determined that, she must start the lesson at that point, for 



The Child and the Curriculum 95 

this is the "point of contact," the bond of sympathy between 
the child's interest and the subject-matter. How shall ele- 
mentary reading, therefore, be introduced? The child knows 
sentences, for he employs them in the expression of his ideas. 
The child is hardly ever conscious of words, never of sounds 
of letters and their names. He always subordinates these to 
the idea. Hence the child should begin to learn to read by 
reading sentences and stories. History must have its begin- 
nings in the stories connected with his environment, the 
places he sees and knows. Whatever excursions are taken 
with children into the realms of distant time and space must 
start in the concrete, narrow world which actually touches 
them. So, too, geography must have its beginnings in local 
topography, in a study of the physical environment, in the 
immediate social and industrial conditions. 

(b) A second divergence between the child and the curricu- 
lum is equally vital. The child's life is thoroughly intercon- 
nected. It is a unit. It must be so to him, since his knowl- 
edge of the world is dependent upon all that he actually sees. 
Things are connected and unified in nature. "The things 
that occupy him are held together by the unity of personal 
and social interest . . . whatever is uppermost in his 
mind constitutes for him, for the time being, the whole uni- 
verse. " Does the curriculum unify the universe which the 
child studies? Too often it operates in a decidedly opposite 
direction. Geography, history, arithmetic, and the whole series 
of school subjects, are taught to the child as separate, inde- 
pendent subjects. He finds little or no relation among them. 
The subject of English is, in turn, broken up into a number 
of distinct sub-subjects, each taught in its own way, in its 
separate period, and too often with little or no reference to 
the others. There is no pedagogical reason for not selecting 
spelling words from all the expressional exercises, or the sen- 
tences for grammatical analysis from difficulties encountered 
in composition and reading. The memory selections and the 
topics for many compositions should find their source in 
related class-room studies. This would give all the English 



96 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

work its necessary unity. The child is being made to suffer 
from the lack of unity in experiences that are integral, while 
education is busying itself explaining and extolling the prin- 
ciple of correlation in class teaching. 

We insist on clearness of enunciation in the phonetic 
drills, but we allow slovenly expression in the language of our 
geography and history lessons. Clearness of articulation is 
sacred in the phonic drill only. We insist on accuracy and 
precision of speech in the composition periods, but we tolerate 
looseness of expression in arithmetic, permitting our children 
to explain that, if three-fifths equals $9.00, one-fifth equals 
one-third of $9.00, or $3.00. Accuracy and precision of speech 
are no desiderata outside of the composition period. The 
whole curriculum is presented to the ehild as a mass of 
facts, a sum total of straggling bits of information. We fail 
to bring out the unity of knowledge, its singleness of purpose 
and aim. 

(c) A third discrepancy between the child and the curricu- 
lum is found in the fact that, in teaching, subjects are pre- 
sented in which the facts are carefully classified and arranged 
in a logical order, according to a scientific principle. But 
scientific systematization is itself based on a study of under- 
lying similarity or deeper meaning of these data. The child 
does not see the universe so classified. He sees experiences in 
their natural order, in their accidental places. Dewey says: 
"Facts are torn away from their original places in experience 
and rearranged with reference to some general principle. 
Classification is not a matter of child experience; things do 
not come to the individual pigeon-holed." It is in the cur- 
riculum that these natural associations are broken and a new- 
grouping, which is scientific or logical, is established. But 
this the child can accomplish only after tedious work and 
great effort. To quote again, "The studies as classified are 
the result of the science of ages, not of the experience of the 
child." 

What provisions docs I he average course of study make 
to introduce system and classification gradually? Does it 



The Child and the Curriculum 97 

present experiences in the order in which we find them in the 
environment? How often do we find fine systems of minute 
classification, new centers for grouping introduced in early- 
lessons? Every school book in geography begins with the 
following topics: (1) The earth — shape, size, circumference, 
etc. (2) Divisions into (a) land and (b) water. (3) Sub- 
divisions of land — continents, peninsulas, capes, islands. (4) 
Subdivisions of water — ocean, bay, strait, etc., etc. The text- 
book approaches the subject scientifically, hence the book is 
really not written for exclusive use by the children but writ- 
ten for the teacher. Our school grammars begin with — Lan- 
guage: (1) Kinds, (a) oral and (b) written; (2) Elements, 
(a) words, (b) sentences; (3) Classification of words, Parts 
of Speech; (4) Kind of sentences, etc., etc. The grammar, 
too, is not written from the point of view of the child but 
from the point of view of the subject or of the specialist, 
whose scientific knowledge of it gives him this scientific sys- 
tem ; hence, we cannot follow this order ; we must begin with 
a study of the sentence and develop the subject and its 
topics in a way that is determined by the child's outlook upon 
life. 

Application to the Average School Course in Physics. — 
Criticism is easy, especially destructive criticism. But when 
an arrangement seems to violate every sound precaution nec- 
essary in introducing a new and difficult subject objections 
are justifiable and perhaps helpful. Let us outline the aver- 
age course in physics as given in many elementary schools: 

First Grade : Mechanics of Solids ; Mechanical Powers — 
gravity, levers, wheel and axle, simple machines, etc. 

Second grade : Mechanics of Liquids and Gases. 

Third Grade: Sound — its phenomena. Heat — phenom- 
ena and uses. 

Fourth Grade: Light; Electricity and Magnetism. 

Let us review, for a moment, the three divergencies be- 
tween the child and the curriculum : the narrow, but per- 
sonal and concrete world of the child versus the breadth and 
abstractions of the curriculum ; the unity of the life of the 



98 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

child versus the subdivision of studies; the principle of ab- 
stract classification versus the natural order of the child's 
experience. The common elementary school course of study 
begins with a consideration of the forces of matter and their 
logical classifications and subdivisions into levers, pulley, 
inclined plane, etc. It proceeds to the less solid matter, liq- 
uids, and then to what is even less concrete — gases. Sound 
and heat, whose more intangible medium is air, come next 
in this logical sequence. This is followed by "light" travel- 
ing through ether. Magnetism and electricity bring up the 
rear guard of this most logical and scientific array. This is 
precisely the arrangement one would follow who sets out to 
write an elementary text-book on the subject. It is order 
and sequence which only the later student of the subject 
can appreciate. 

The development in the average elementary school course 
begins with things unknown and unrelated to the child. Will 
this arrangement of the topics of physics enlist the child's 
interest? Will it be full of meaning and suggestion in the 
light of his past narrow experience? Is not this the reason 
why our children, who are confronted by this thorough pres- 
entation of the subject-matter, talk words, empty sounds? 
"Specific gravity, ebullition, liquefaction, propagation, con- 
duction, intensity of light and sound, center of gravity," are 
words which call up their corresponding memorized formula 1 
and the drilled experiment which few, in most of our ele- 
mentary schools, can explain. Where is the "point of con- 
tact ' ' ? Why do we not begin there ? 

How much more rational and psychological it would be 
to begin with simple phenomena of electricity and magnetism 
such as the child sees in his daily life. The attraction of a 
magnet, the magnet affected or produced by a current can 
be studied by analyzing a house bell. The principles of phys- 
ics will not be exhaustive or deep, but just enough to explain 
the workings of the bell, the telegraph ticker, and similar ap- 
plications. The subjeel would thus begin with the concrete, 
with the "point of contact." Is there any sound principle 



The Child and the Curriculum 99 

which explains why boys and girls of the age of twelve should 
be given a course in physics which compares favorably with 
that given in the fourth year of the average high school of 
the country? Actual examination of such classes proves con- 
clusively that such procedure makes for shallowness, super- 
ficiality, a "masquerading in words," a game of verbal hide 
and seek between teacher and child. 

How Can We Harmonize the Child and the Curriculum? — 
Since our modern curriculum presents divergencies between 
itself and the child which are almost inherent, the urgent 
question which presents itself is naturally, "What can be done 
to bring about harmony where naught but discord seems to 
reign ? ' ' This question was never asked before the great 
Herbart wrote. Educators knew too little of psychology to 
discover any such divergencies as those which have been con- 
sidered. Herbart placed psychology on a definite footing 
and then tried to square educational theory, teaching, and the 
curriculum with the lessons of psychology. It was Ziller, 
Herbart 's great disciple, who elaborated and made famous 
the work of his master. He interpreted the doctrine which 
Herbart advocated for the harmonization of the child and 
the subject-matter. To-day it is known as the "Culture 
Epoch Theory." 

Culture Epoch Theory. — This view holds that the individ- 
ual in his development passes through the same stages as 
the race did in its own evolution. Philosophically, we can 
summarize the theory with "Ontology recapitulates phytog- 
eny." Hence, in order to fit man for our present society, we 
must take him through the stages through which society 
passed in its natural social progress. Thus we are told that 
society, in its changes from primitive to modern form, began 
organized life in a hunting and fishing stage. Man then 
learned to tame animals and thus entered upon the second 
step, the herding stage of social life. The wandering tribe 
accidentally discovered the secrets of the soil and then took 
up an agricultural life. The series in the social evolution 
ended with the manufacturing and industrial stages. Edu- 



100 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

cation must take the child through these culture epochs in 
its attempt to fit him for our life. 

It seems as if the individual in his development passes 
through stages whose characteristics, impulses, and interests 
are identical with those of the race. In his development the 
individual first leads a life as a child which is physical, ac- 
tive, full of play and fight; a life that shows only physical 
wants and needs ; a life which is as free as the wind and 
throws off all restraint and control. This corresponds to the 
hunting and fishing stage, the savage life, equally full of 
fight, play, activity, and just as reckless and uncontrolled. 
The individual, like society, soon outgrows this initial stage. 
A tribe in the course of its history leaves the wild, barbarous 
life behind, and takes to herding cattle, Avandering where 
they wander, following where they lead. In the child, too, 
we find that the desire for mere activity, play, fight, freedom 
from restraint are only temporary. He, too, becomes no- 
madic; the "wanderlust" seems to possess him as it did the 
race. This is the age when the boy dreams of running away, 
of becoming a pirate or an Indian chief. "Ask the child of 
eight or nine to build a house and it usually takes the form 
of a cave," is the assertion of the "Epoch Culturites." This 
shows social atavistic tendencies, the constant reversion to 
older and lower social stages. 

But the race, in its development, soon passes through 
this nomadic life and settles down to a definite industry, some 
form of farming or handicraft. With the end of this wander- 
ing career of the race we find the beginnings of fixed com 
munities, customs, and regulations which guarantee personal 
and property rights, each individual now voluntarily submit- 
ting to restraint. The child too soon grows out of the pirate 
and wandering stage; he selects a particular activity as his 
vocational ideal, the highest consummation of his ambition 
is to become a fireman, a general, a policeman, a physician, 
or a teacher. 

The Culture Epochs as the Basis of a Course of Study. — 
According to Ziller, one must argue that, if each individual 



The Child and the Curricidum 101 

is to realize the experiences of his race, then let him retrace 
the stages in the development of the race. Teach, during the 
first year, all about society's first stage, the life of the savage; 
the second year, the second stage, etc., until the modern social 
status is attained. This argument has been a favorite among 
philosophers of all time, but only a few practical teachers ever 
sought seriously to make it the basis of an entire curriculum. 
In discussing manual training it was shown how each of these 
stages can be made the center around which all the work 
revolves, the child constructing the home, the utensils, the 
tools, the weapons of that particular stage. Others have 
sought to develop early reading lessons according to a table 
which reproduces the successive epochs of the civilization of 
the race. "Hiawatha" is read for its study of savage society 
with hunting and fishing as the center and circumference of 
barbaric life. The old Persian stories form the content of 
the next grade because they portray the social stage that is 
characteristic of nomadic existence. "Kablu, the Little 
Aryan Boy, ' ' represents the agricultural stage of civilization ; 
his life is therefore next upon the scene. The stories of the 
Greeks, the Romans, the ancient Hebrews, the Christian Fa- 
thers, Columbus, the Puritan Fathers, Franklin, Wash- 
ington, Fulton, Morse, are each taken up in turn as a 
great stepping stone in the course of social evolution 
leading to our present complex national and industrial 
life. But, aside from these few attempts in manual training 
work, in reading, and in history, it is very doubtful 
whether we can or, if we could, whether it would be 
desirable to reproduce in detail each of the preceding stages 
of social evolution. 

Advantages in Following the Culture Epoch Stages. — 
Those who would follow this order of teaching absolutely tell 
us that the present age is difficult of comprehension, because 
its complexity is the result of ages of development. It is use- 
less to attempt to teach the child our modern social and in- 
dustrial organization. To appreciate the wonders that we 
have to-day we must see modern society from a contrast, in 



10_! Education as Sociological Adjustment 

historical perspective. Schools following a Culture Epoch 
curriculum spend the early years showing the child how the 
primitive workers used to spin; when he comes to the modern 
weaving and spinning machines he can readily understand the 
marvelous progress. To appreciate the wonders of modern 
transportation with the express train and the giant steam- 
ships, the child must see in review the old ox-team, the horse 
and wagon on wooden rails, the pack mule, the carriers of 
the Sedan chair. The child cannot appreciate the extent of 
our progress in means of communication, how nearly omni- 
present we are through telephone, telegraph, and "wireless," 
unless he has seen in contrast the old messenger on foot, the 
old-time post, the archaic methods of the past. The child who 
was born and brought up on a high mountain does not un- 
derstand what is meant by altitude. Only when he descends 
into the valley does he realize how near to the clouds he has 
been living. To make the child realize our present status in 
government, in knowledge, in industry, in morality and ethics, 
let him study primitive government, knowledge, industry, and 
morality. The present is understood only when it is seen in 
a proper perspective; present complexity becomes more in- 
telligible because the child sees the steps, stages, and forces 
in the forward movement of progress. Going from epoch to 
epoch the child receives ideas in the one which prepare it for 
the next, for "that which has become explains that which is 
becoming." 

Another argument advanced for making each culture 
epoch the center of the curriculum each succeeding year is 
the fact that all studies ean readily be centered around each 
stage. Thus in the first year the children study the "Story 
of Ab" or "Hiawatha." That theme becomes, as was shown, 
the topic around which early reading develops. The con- 
versation lessons are on the same theme. In the number work 
the children compute examples dealing with problems taken 
from the hunting and fishing activities. The songs, the danc- 
ing, the games, as well as the manual training, revolve about 
the same interests. Correlation is embodied to a maximum; 



The Child and the Curriculum 103 

but, as so often happens in education, an idea is carried be- 
yond its rational limits. 

Limitations of Culture Epoch Curriculum. — Most of the 
analogy traced between individual and racial development 
is accidental, far-fetched, and fanciful. Whatever initial in- 
stincts we have, whatever innate primitive impulses we may 
show are modified by present life and environment. Be- 
cause Paganism preceded Christianity, should we teach the 
former before the latter to the child? According to the 
Culture Epoch Theory, this should be the sequence. 

How can one tell that a child has passed out of the second 
stage and is now in the third? Very often a child seems to 
show by his actions that he is on a far higher plane intellec- 
tually and morally than was supposed. But how often are 
we disappointed to find him betraying evidences that he is 
still a slave to impulses of the lower stages of life ! 

Another difficulty in making the Culture Epoch Theory 
the basis of our modern curriculum lies in the fact that sub- 
jects could not be introduced into the course of study until the 
child arrived at the proper stage in his development. Those 
subjects which belong to later culture epochs and charac- 
terize modern life would be postponed until the end of the 
course. The school would be turning out a vast majority of 
the children ready to take up life in a past stage but hardly 
fit to join present society. Whether the individual relives the 
life of the race, whether ontology recapitulates phylogeny, 
is still a question of theory rather than fact. Granting the 
hypothesis as pedagogical gospel, it nevertheless remains a 
truth that we do not recapitulate all the life of the race, nor 
do we go through more than the vague and broad tendencies 
of the ancestral life. The theory of racial recapitulation must 
be held within bounds. 

When we reconsider the divergencies between the child 
and the curriculum, and recall the conclusions about the need 
of establishing a point of contact between the child and the 
subject-matter, it is readily seen that the child is not inter- 
ested in what developed first in the race. What is first in the 



•104 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

course of development is usually interesting material for 
philosophic speculation. The child wants the concrete, he 
feels a special need for what is of the present, for what is 
part of his world. The telegraph, the telephone, the electric 
car, the aeroplane, not the ox-team nor the foot messenger, 
concern him. Present history and current politics can be 
made absorbing. Ancient history and past statecraft are tedi- 
ous. Football, basketball, baseball, rather than the games of 
the young savages, thrill him. Whittling a cord winder, and 
making a boat or an article of furniture are serious tasks; 
manual training that creates a tomahawk, an antiquated bow 
and arrow, suitable for first and second-year children, lacks 
educational seriousness in the eyes of the older child. Given 
a set of building blocks the average child builds a bridge 
or a modern structure. The observation that children left 
alone will build a cave and reproduce forms of ancestral life 
is true only of the child whose mind has been filled with 
stories of savage life, and whose manual training has busied 
itself with the creation of the appurtenances of such society. 

Thoreau tells us that the child relives the life of our 
ancestors by playing in those activities which meant, not play, 
but activities of life. "The pursuits of earlier generations 
become sports of later and more highly developed civiliza- 
tions." Rosmini, a contemporary of Herbert, tells us, "His- 
tory has the same epochs in the individual as in the whole 
human race." Baldwin is a believer in the theory, for he 
says, "The infant is an embryo person, a social unit in the 
process of forming, and is, in these early stages, plainly reca- 
pitulating the items in the soul history of the race." Goethe 
tells us, "Although the world in general advances, the youth 
must always start again from the beginning, and, as an in- 
dividual, traverse the world's culture." These are beautiful 
conceits such as only the poet and the philosopher may in- 
dulge in without restraint or stint. 

The Culture Epoch Theory tries to prove a similarity be- 
tween the social stages of the historical development of the 
race and the mental stages of the psychic development of the 



The Child and the Curriculum 105 

individual. It usually seeks, therefore, to make identical 
sociology and individual psychology. Failure is inevitable. 
But its motive and desire are big and broad. It tries to re- 
produce in each individual's life and mind the life and mind 
of the race. This theory, therefore, well merits its place in 
a study of the sociological aspect of education. 

General Conclusions: The Theory Harmonized. — A single 
point of view, an analogy between the psychological stages of 
individual and racial development, may meet with greater suc- 
cess in trying to establish a harmony between the child and 
the curriculum. In a general way the child, in its develop- 
ment, passes through three more or less distinct successive 
psychic stages, (a) the Presentative, (b) the Representative, 
and (c) the Thought stage. 

From the very name it can readily be inferred that the 
child in the Presentative Stage learns only by having things 
presented to him. It is the period when the child relies 
solely on its senses for its knowledge of the outside world. 
Sense perceptions supply the mental bricks and mortar which 
build mental content. Therefore, only that which is concrete 
appeals to the mind in this stage. Whatever is taught in this 
period must, therefore, be presented objectively. The child 
must actually see, handle, break apart the things taught. 
The teachers of the kindergarten and of the first two years 
of the school, realizing that the pupils are in the presentative 
stage, plan their work in the actual, the real world. The 
arithmetic, the reading lessons, the games reflect the things 
of their immediate environment, of their home, their street 
life, or the vocations of the parents. 

The Representative Period is characterized by reliable re- 
tention and active imagination which can be used for serious 
ends. What is taught now need not be objective. The child 
has the ability to recall and repicture what he saw before; 
he can "re-present" what was presented before. History, 
geography, imaginative compositions, and the like are intro- 
duced to take advantage of the new representative powers in 
this second stage of individual psychic evolution. 



10G Education as Sociological Adjustment 

At the age of about ten or eleven the mind in maturing 

gains enough power to compare, to judge, to reason about the 
elements presented and represented. Subjects taught in this 
stage require thought. In history cause and effect are em- 
phasized; in geography physical phenomena, antecedent and 
consequent, are taught; in arithmetic two or three processes 
are combined ; in language work topics are more or less orig- 
inal, and technical grammar receives attention. This develop- 
ment of the child must determine the development of the 
curriculum. Does the race in its development show three 
psychological stages analogous to these? We must trace the 
progress of social psychic evolution before we answer this 
question. 

The savage represents the social presentative stage. All 
he knows of the world is what he sees and meets. His life 
never transcends his actual experiences. He is an improvi- 
dent creature, he never foresees to-morrow with its inevitable 
emergencies. If he has food he eats; if he has too much he 
gorges himself and destroys or loses the rest. The gathering 
clouds do not suggest the impending storm. He lives only 
in the present. His religion reflects the same concrete gods, 
the flood, the thunder, the waves, the wind, forces real and 
concrete, constantly appealing to the senses. 

The next psychic step in civilization finds the race in 
an imaginative stage. It is an age of mythology, of wild and 
lurid fancy. There are special gods who look after the wind, 
the sea, the flood, the thunder, special spirits which pursue 
the wicked and reward the good. This is, therefore, a stage 
of dread and superstition. Any early literature shows that 
the stage above barbarism is a stage of imagination, for it 
abounds in myths, fairy tales, impossible heroes, and super- 
human people. It is the period when the race is in the rep- 
resentative stage, the period of social childhood. 

The third stage, the Thought Stage, comes in the course 
of cultural evolution. The race begins to question these pow- 
ers and gods and evolves a religion of love. Government that 
was established bv force is maintained for logical reasons. 



The Child and the Curriculum 107 

<t ■ 

The natural phenomena are studied. The individuals assume 
the attitude of "why," "wherefore," "why not" — points of 
view which show clearly that social thought and reason are 
alive. The developments of the thought stage in society 
are as infinite' and varied as those in the individual. From 
the psychological point of view, therefore, it is possible not 
only to trace an analogy between social and individual devel- 
opment but also to evolve stages which determine the order 
of the introduction of various studies in the curriculum. 



SUGGESTED BEADING 
(List Given at the End of the Topic, Chapter IX.) 



CHAPTER VII 
THE CURRICULUM: ITS SOCIAL ORGANIZATION 

Elements in the Modern Curriculum. — Thus far the prob- 
lem of the divergencies between the child and the curriculum 
and the attempt to bring about a harmony between the two 
were the topics of discussion. We now turn to an analysis 
of the basic elements which a modern curriculum must pos- 
sess. Since the curriculum is a historic development the his- 
toric point of view may be most helpful in analyzing it into 
its component elements. 

Before the sixteenth century the curricula of the various 
educational institutions, both elementary and secondary, were 
intensely humanistic. The literary inheritance was the all- 
important element in the course of study. Language lessons, 
reading, writing, and a few mechanical rules in arithmetic 
made up the proverbial three R's of the elementary schools. 
Latin and Greek were introduced as soon as possible. Early 
in the secondary education one finds philosophy, metaphysics, 
and every form of hair-splitting speculations. The humanis- 
tic study concerned itself with the past, it busied itself with 
studying about things and actions, hence we may characterize 
the humanistic curriculum as a study of the reflections of 
things and acts of the past. 

With the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries changes 
were gradually introduced. The new world which was dis- 
covered was now opened ; great strides were made in printing 
and navigation; inventions, with their enlightening influences, 
were numerous. These new and progressive movements re- 
molded life. Even philosophy and religion changed their 
lessons and outlooks. They now taught that the salvation of 

108 



The Curriculum: Its Social Organization 109 

the soul and the Kingdom of Heaven were not denied to those 
who lived worldly lives, who enjoyed the benefits and fruits 
that this world had to offer. All these changes were soon re- 
flected in the curriculum ; it, too, became worldly. Bacon 
ushered in the new trend in education. He preached : "Study 
science, real life, real things, real actions." Little by little 
the "Realistic" element was introduced into the curriculum, 
with its demand for a study of the actual, the real. To do 
this, the present as well as the past had to be incorporated into 
the curriculum. Science, both organic and inorganic, teaching 
through experimentation and observation now received a 
place of equal rank with language studies and memoriter 
drill. The curriculum was now humanistic and realistic. 

The middle of the eighteenth century found a new princi- 
ple molding the course of study, viz., "Disciplinary Value of 
Studies." The new idea tried to emphasize that each sub- 
ject is important only as it affects the mind. It received its 
impetus from those educators who were basing all their teach- 
ing on psychology. Those studies which had no clearly de- 
fined "psychological coefficient" were regarded as useless. 
Arithmetic was taught because it trained the mind to reason 
deductively; science because it developed the mind's power 
for inductive reasoning; literature was taught to educate the 
imagination ; geography and history the memory, etc. Each 
subject had its allotted faculty to unfold. Education became 
interested, not in what was learned, but in how it was taught. 
The process of acquisition, not the amount nor the nature of 
the subject acquired, was the keynote of the disciplinary 
school. 

A thoroughly modern element is constantly being intro- 
duced which is becoming supplementary to each of the three 
older elements: "The Social Standard." It has been em- 
phasized in the development of the subject thus far, and needs 
no further discussion now beyond the mere statement that 
education is not content with the old justification for the 
introduction of the school subjects,/ "the subject matter of 
arithmetic, grammar, geography, history, are disciplinaiy and 



llo Education as Sociological Adjustment 

train the mind." II asks, "Is it useful as well as discipli- 
nary? Does the individual need it in the social life that he 
is to live?" If the subject-matter does not meet the test of 
social efficiency education can find plenty of other material 
which is both socially necessary and disciplinary. The school- 
masters are throwing out of the elementary school subjects 
those parts that have no social use, but which were taught 
for generations because of traditional and disciplinary rea- 
sons. A modern curriculum is, therefore, a composite of 
Humanistic, Realistic, Disciplinary, and Social Elements. 

Principles of Organization. — These four elements of a mod- 
ern curriculum must be organized with definite ends and 
ideals that must be attained. The discussion must, therefore, 
pass over to a consideration of those principles of organiza- 
tion which seek to make the course of study a most efficient 
socializing agent in the life of the pupil. 

Adaptability. — The course of study should not be so fixed 
and limited that it cannot be molded readily to fit the needs 
of special cases. No class is an exact duplicate of any other, 
no two have the same needs and the same weaknesses. In a 
large, progressive city the needs in one district may not be 
the needs in another. There must always be, therefore, a 
liberal margin, a broad leeway, to enable the teacher to adapt 
the curriculum to the special needs and peculiarities of a 
particular class. 

The most efficacious means devised thus far, in a few of 
our leading cities, is to allow "Unassigned Time" to the 
amount of two hundred forty or three hundred minutes 
a week. In a cosmopolitan city, with a class of children who 
hear no English at home and worse than no English on the 
street, the teacher can use almost all of this in oral drill, ex- 
tra reading, and added composition exercises. A teacher in 
another school may find that the English of the pupils is fair 
but the arithmetic is below the average. The "Unassigned 
Time" can be devoted to this end. Every teacher knows how 
much more efficient class-room instruction could be made if 
such an opportunity were given to bolster up weak points 



The Curriculum: Its Social Organization 111 

or to give deeper insight and thorough comprehension to 
knowledge which otherwise remains in the realm of the 
superficial. 

Some curricula fix the subject-matter in each grade so 
minutely that the procedure resolves itself into nothing less 
than a straight-jacket method. The teacher is told not only 
that she is held responsible for two hundred and fifty spell- 
ing words during the term but the exact list is prescribed; 
not only must one composition be taught each week but the 
nature and the topic of each week's composition is imposed. 
Such an iron-bound assignment is hardly defensible. The 
work in the varied branches of English must be related, the 
spelling words must have their origin in all the expressional 
exercises of the children, the topics for composition must have 
an intimate connection with class-room activities, must be an 
outgrowth of the child's life and interests. No teacher who 
seeks spontaneity and personal expression in composition 
knows the second week of the term what will be most appro- 
priate for the twelfth. Such practices in which assignments 
are irrationally minute not only deny the teacher's posses- 
sion of the professional ability and insight necessary to ad- 
just the subject-matter to the specific needs of a particular 
class, but make for an isolated, unrelated, uncorrelated cur- 
riculum. It is strange indeed that a system in which the 
teacher is the vital educator, the only real agent in the appli- 
cation of the course of study to the children, not only gives 
that teacher no "definite and authoritative position in shap- 
ing" the curriculum, but usually does not even consult him 
in its formation. 

Unity. — The principle of unity was vaguely suggested in 
the discussion which immediately precedes. It emphasizes 
that the various subjects ought to be so arranged in the 
various grades that they will run parallel and thus the child 
will take with it, not a multitude of kindred impressions, but 
a unified and central thought. This would help reduce the 
chaos that exists in the courses of study in the elementary 
school*. Tli is principle of organization insists that if, 



112 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

in elementary physics, the mechanics of solids, liquids, and 
gases be taught in a given grade, the geography of that year 
be physical rather than commercial, so that the child can 
apply the lessons of physics to the principles of physical geog- 
raphy.* If English history is taught in one year of the ele- 
mentary course the grade in which the second half of the sub- 
ject is taken up should also study the commercial geography 
of Europe, and especially of England, so that commercial 
policies reflected in the history of England can be correlated 
with the commercial facts of the geography. To assign the 
commercial geography of Asia, Africa, Australia to the grade 
studying English history is unjustifiable disregard of the 
principle of unity.* To assign the teaching of the geography 
of North America, with especial emphasis on the United 
States, in the grade that studies the periods of discovery, ex- 
ploration, and settlement is an attempt to produce this har- 
mony and correlation of subject-matter. Opportunities for 
such parallelisms abound. To neglect them shows a lack of 
pedagogical insight. 

Flexibility. — Elementary curricula are often too rigid in 
point of time and, therefore, do not provide for the varying 
capabilities of the children. No course of study should pre- 
scribe a maximum. A minimum limit is the only sound de- 
mand that can be made. It is wrong to say "Teach only so 
much in 5- A or so much in 4-B for all children." If a child 
can go beyond that limit it is wrong to tie him down. 

A model curriculum makes provision for three rates of 
speed for "A," "B," and "C" children. In that way it 
teaches as fast, and only as fast, as the respective groups 
can travel. 

Elementary education to-day sins more against the bright 
child than against the naturally dull one. The former comes 
to the school favored by nature with strong mental faculties, 
good receptivity, and limitless possibilities for development. 
Instead of allowing the child to develop the mental powers 
at a pace and rate that are natural to him, the present lockstep 
See Course of Study, New York City Elementary Schools, as a type. 



The Curriculum: Its Social Organization 113 

system forces him to travel at the speed of that child who is 
just a bit below the average. The bright child thus marks 
time while his less gifted brethren are forging ahead. This 
stultifies growth. It artificially fetters and chains powers 
striving for progress and development. "The laws of the 
navy must prevail in the class-room ; the speed of the fleet is 
set by the slow-moving ships," is the dictum often laid down 
with great solemnity by educational dignitaries. But the 
analogy is both unjust and impossible. The children in our 
school must be so grouped that only those of uniform speed 
are allowed to travel together. 

Our school system demands four years in the primary, 
four years in the grammar grades, four in high school, and 
four in the college. Why this mystical four? Why four 
years for each cycle ? Do we not know large numbers of chil- 
dren who can accomplish three terms' work in two? The 
only reason they do not do so is because they are not given the 
chance. When children are grouped according to capabilities 
it is found that those in group "A" can readily complete 
four years' work in three, or at a reduction of twenty-five per 
cent, of the time. When the same principle of flexibility is 
applied in the grammar grades the brightest children fulfill 
the requirements of the course in six years. If a "B" child 
can complete the work in seven years he should be allowed 
to do so. The "C" child is given the long eight-year course. 
The rigid curriculum, with its fixed maximum, has worked ir- 
reparable injustice upon the bright boy. 



SUGGESTED READING 
(List Given at the End of the Topic, Chapter IX.) 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE SOCIAL CONTENT OF THE CURRICULUM 

The preceding study concerned itself with the elements 
of the modern curriculum and the principles governing their 
organization. The next logical question that presents itself 
is, "What shall be the appropriate subject-matter of the cur- 
riculum?" An earlier conclusion stated that the object of 
the curriculum is to make the individual part of the race, 
"to reproduce in his mind the mind of the race"; hence it 
must contain all the elements of the complete experience of 
the race. To give all the facts necessary to socialize the in- 
dividual, the curriculum must embody: (I) The Scientific, 
(IT) The Literary, (III) The Esthetic, (IV) The Institu- 
tional, and (V) The Religious Factors. This fivefold division 
is the traditional classification of the social content of the 
curriculum. 

I. The Scientific Factor 

Evidently the child is entitled to that mass of data which 
will explain why our view of the world and all its accompany- 
ing phenomena is so different from the conception held by the 
ancients. What has changed our mental ken? Society must 
teach its successors how to curb Nature's forces; it must give 
the child the secrets of the physical environment which i + 
gained in ages past. This constitutes the scientific inheritance 
with its twofold educational value. First, it teaches the 
child that he mnsf strive to systematize his knowledge ami 
make it capable of verification, so that he can better inter- 
pret truth. Its second lesson is that he has much to learn 
without the teacher or the hook; through observation ami 

114 



Social Content of the Curriculum 115 

individual experimentation he becomes master of a vast 
treasure house of knowledge. It tends to show the child the 
capabilities and possibilities within him. It hence develops 
a spirit of self-reliance and partial independence. 

Spencer and the Apotheosis of Science. — The leading expo- 
nent of science in the modern educational world is the late 
Herbert Spencer. To him the sole function which education 
has to discharge is "to prepare the individual for complete 
living." Granting that, his next question is, "What are the 
activities of complete living"? He sums them up in five 
groups: (a) Activities which govern self-preservation. These 
activities have reference to bodily health and proper food and 
clothing. Physiology, hygiene, biology, vocational mastery, 
commercial and physical geography, etc. : these are the sub- 
jects which are basic in this fundamental activity of life. 
Science is the watchword, (b) Activities which indirectly 
minister to preservation. Housing, sanitation, avoidance of 
physical danger, are illustrations. These problems are solved 
absolutely by physics, mechanics, laws of mathematics, chem- 
istry, etc.; in a word, by science, (c) Activities relating to 
proper care of offspring. These duties the parents cannot 
properly perform unless they know hygiene, physiology, chem- 
istry of foods, psychology of the immature mind, and the like. 
Here, too, science is the guiding star, (d) Duties and activi- 
ties of citizenship. To understand the social life and or- 
ganization about us we need history, but not the history of the 
schools, not facts, battles, wars, men that are dead, achieve- 
ments that are past, but a study of the social laws which 
have governed society in the past and will hence control 
mankind in the future. Real history is, hence, scientific so- 
ciology, (e) Activities of leisure, the enjoyment and partici- 
pation in all forms of art, music, and literature. But, as 
these "occupy the leisure of life, so they should occupy the 
leisure of education." Only after science has been thor- 
oughly mastered should the literary and aesthetic elements 
be incorporated into the curriculum, Spencer argues. In the 
final analysis, he holds, science is the key to all art. The 



116 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

sculptor has a scientific knowledge of anatomy, the artist 
knows the science of light and color, the musician must work 
in accordance with the laws of sound. Without science there 
can be no art beyond the crudities of initial attempts. 

Spencer, therefore, counsels an appreciation of art that 
is intellectual rather than emotional. Science is the key to 
all activities of life; their proper performance is impossible 
without it. His is an education of the head, not of the heart. 
in his chapter, "What Knowledge is Most Worth," he often 
confuses "complete living" with "easy living." "Harmo- 
nious life" he very often makes to mean a life with little 
friction, a life requiring least effort and trouble. Moral fiber 
and strength of character are built up through effort, through 
work, through the struggle and the striving that try men's 
souls, not through ease and comfort. 

II. The Literary Factor 

Inspiration of the Literary Factor. — The second element in 
the social content of the curriculum is the literary inheritance. 
It is the gateway to the dreams and ideals of those who have 
preceded us. It gives mankind "the crystallized thoughts of 
the past." It offers the student a record of humanity's de- 
velopment, and projects him into the ages that have passed. 
It is the telescope which puts the remote past before our im- 
mediate vision for our careful scrutiny and inspiration. 

Literary Factor of the Curriculum Must Rise Above Dead 
Formalism. — The function of the literary element is to convey 
thought. We prize it for its ideas, ideals, and inspirations. 
Viewed from this thought element, from tin's thought func- 
tion, has the literary factor been altogether successful? Do 
elementary school children or secondary school students re- 
gard language as a thought carrier? Do they look upon it 
as an inspirational subject? Too often the teacher is forced 
to answer negatively, for language work, both in English 
and in the foreign tongues, is reduced to a dead formalism, to 
a mechanical drill in technical grammar, rhetoric, and fig- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 117 

ures of speech. The recognition of a noun, a gerund, a simile, 
or a metaphor becomes an end in itself. 

The Classics as Taught Are Devoid of Inspiration. — 
The average student of Latin or Greek looks askance and 
listens incredulously when he hears the classics extolled as 
inspirational. In vain he tries to recall the joys of Homer, 
the charm of Virgil. His recollection brings before him a 
clear picture of his Latin recitation. Thirty lines were as- 
signed ; this was the result of a mathematical division of the 
total number of lines to be studied, by the number of recita- 
tions. These were dissected, and, after laborious attempts, 
synthesized into rational English. The recitation was char- 
acterized by questions which sought to uncover the student's 
ignorance of vocabulary, grammatical structure, facts in foot- 
notes and commentaries and the like. The whole lesson was 
a language puzzle. The gain in thought was hardly com- 
mensurate with the effort and the labor. Teachers often for- 
get that language is a means to an end ; it is a device which 
makes possible the communication of thoughts. Language it- 
self, apart from this function, has no other value, for, stripped 
of its thought element, it becomes mere ejaculations, empty 
sounds as stupid as the jibbering of the monkey. 

The Vernacular Often So Taught, Too. — But one need not 
go to the dead languages for an illustration of language teach- 
ing which is completely monopolized by the technique of 
speech. A teacher who was engaged in explaining "Evange- 
line" to his class stopped for some minutes with his children 
on the line, "Gabriel, so near and yet so far." After consid- 
erable questioning he brought home the idea that this is a 
paradox. The teacher hardly scored a point to his credit 
when the explanation was over. Here we have the climax 
of the whole poem, the climax of the whole term's work, 
everything preceding led up to it, everything following led 
down from it ; and yet the fact that Longfellow had put his 
climax into paradoxical form was made central, to the ex- 
clusion of everything else. The only message that the 
author had to utter was — "a paradox!" What an excep- 



118 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

tional opportunity the teacher missed for bringing out the 
inspirational and the thought side of the work, the cultural 
aspect, the hidden treasure for reflection and appreciation! 
' ' Gabriel, so . near and yet so far " is a tragedy reflected 
in our own daily lives. We are constantly beset by oppor- 
tunities which are within our reach, opportunities which 
beckon to us, for they lead to our goals, our ambitions, 
our hopes and ideals. Yet we see them not; it seems as 
if they are hidden from view by a mystic veil. So, too, 
Gabriel, the dream of Evangeline's life, was within reach- 
ing distance, yet she was as blind to her opportunity as 
we are to ours. In our eager search we always seek them 
afar. We seldom look about us and take advantage of 
the infinite possibilities in our immediate surroundings. 
Think of reducing this climax to the cold fact, — "a paradox!" 
If literature is to be the means of arousing the imagination, 
of training the finer sensibilities, of cultivating a true resthetic 
appreciation, then such cold-blooded literary murder must 
not be tolerated. We must arouse enough feeling and spirit 
in our work to make the children relive the lives of the char- 
acters; to make them feel that "when they are hurt thej- 
bleed blood, not sawdust"; we must see that the children suf- 
fer the smartings of their pangs. This is the kind of teaching 
that stimulates the desire to read, that makes for self-culture, 
that arouses a dynamic interest. 

Meaning of the Dead Languages. — A moment's thought 
may serve to show the inappropriateness of the term "Dead 
Languages" as applied to Latin, Greek, and the unspoken 
tongues. Rightly taught, there are no "Dead Languages." 
Can we characterize those languages as "dead" that contain 
the lessons and inspiration of the epics, the plays, the his- 
tories, the poetry of the Greeks and Romans! Have their 
literatures not been models for our best writers, have they 
not influenced our own language, that we call living! No 
language whose literature has written so much of man, that 
pulsates with the life and emotions that we find in Homer, in 
.Virgil, in Xenophon, that contains the philosophy, the sociol- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 119 

ogy, and the ethics of Socrates, of Plato, and of Aristotle is 
"dead." Call it unspoken, obsolete, but not "dead." Any 
language is dead when we give all effort exclusively to its 
form and its laws of structure. Is English a living language 
when its masterpieces are taught on the dissecting table, with 
microscope and scalpel ; by studying meaning of words, names, 
allusions, figures of speech, and laws of versification ! Neither 
time nor age, but the teacher and the method of teaching, 
make a language "dead" or "alive." 

The Expressional Side Must Also Be Emphasized. — The lit- 
erary element often falls short of its possibilities beeause the 
expressional side of the work is not emphasized properly. 
This is a second and equally grave cause which explains why 
so much of the language work fails to measure up to legiti- 
mate expectations. What is meant by the expressional side 
of the work? The first stage in the acquisition of knowledge 
is a stage of receptivity, in which the individual mind is ab- 
sorbing; it is, therefore, passive. It is the stage when knowl- 
edge becomes internal. After this information is assimi- 
lated a reaction sets in and the mind attempts to make the 
internal, external. We experience a craving to express what 
has been impressed, to communicate what has been acquired. 
This craving for expression is the fundamental requisite for 
all language work ; it is the sine qua non of the composition 
and the reading lessons. The principle is so obvious that it 
often meets with the contempt shown to the familiar. A few 
illustrations may suffice to bring the matter home. 

Application to Reading. — In oral reading the teacher calls 
upon a child; he reads the allotted paragraph. If the cor- 
rections are few in number he is happy to escape the censure 
and the accompanying bad mark. Ask the child why he 
reads aloud. The only answer that can be elicited from him 
is invariably either "Because the teacher said so" or "Be- 
cause the teacher wants to see if I can pronounce properly." 
The child is never made to feel that he reads aloud because 
he has something worth communicating, and, therefore, desires 
others to hear it. He reads only to show the teacher his 



120 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

faults or his ability ; hence, so much of oral reading is life- 
less and without expression in the lower classes. 

Take the child out of his seat, have him read facing the 
class; make the child realize that he has something there 
that is worth the telling. Standing in front of the room he 
reads to the children, not at them, as he does when he is in 
his seat. What life and spirit can we expect when the child 
is reading, not to a class of faces, but to forty backs or 
heads? Occasionally it is advisable to have the class close 
their books and listen to the oral reading. At another time 
each child is made responsible for an entire short selection in 
his reader. When his turn comes he reads his own assign- 
ment or choice to the listening class. If children are en- 
couraged to bring to class newspaper and magazine clippings 
w 7 hich correlate with the other subjects, the best ones should 
be read to the children by those who found them. Every 
means at the teacher's command should be emphasized which 
develops this social spirit and social motive in class-room reci- 
tations. This makes the children feel that their classmate 
who is reading is reading for them, and not alone for a criti- 
cism from the teacher. The oral reading is always better if 
the child is conscious of his audience ; it is more natural ; the 
expression is not as stilted, artificial, and exaggerated as the 
kind that the children manufacture when the teacher com- 
mands ' ' More expression ! ' ' 

Application to Composition. — The same principles govern 
written language work. The same motive must be aroused 
in the child as prompts adults to do the tasks akin to those 
assigned to pupils. In real life, in society, a person indulges 
in correspondence because he has something to say to some 
one. If he had nothing to say, or no one to whom to write it, 
he would refrain from the intercourse. The teacher must, 
therefore, make sure that the child feels that what he is writ- 
ing will be read by some one, if not by the teacher, then by 
a member of the class, and that it is a theme on which he has 
ideas and preferences craving for expression. 

Too often the child is assigned a topic which correlates 



Social Content of the Curriculum 121 

with work in geography, history, or nature study, but which 
means very little to him. He memorizes a few facts that he 
heard from the teacher, or saw in the book, on "Daniel Web- 
ster," or "How Coffee Grows," or "The Maple Tree," and 
commits them to paper. The ideas are not his, they are not 
part of him. He does not feel the subject, and, therefore, 
expresses, not himself, but the book or teacher. Then, again, 
to whom is he writing ? If to no one, then why is he writing ? 
Because the expression is forced and does not spring from 
a natural desire for communication, the poor results in compo- 
sition are inevitable. The cause can be found very readily — 
the teacher does not supply the proper motives for expression. 
The question which suggests itself is, therefore, "What can 
the teacher do to make written composition more natural 
and urgent in the eyes of the child?" 

The answer is twofold. First, only those subjects which 
are part of the child's life, about which he is brimful, about 
which he feels an impulse "to make external the internal" 
should be selected. Let the child introduce his own personal- 
ity into the composition — if necessary — have it all written in 
the first person. Instead of "Daniel Webster" let him write 
on "My Interview with Daniel Webster"; instead of a cold 
and formal narrative of "Bunker Hill," change the topic to 
"My Experiences as a Soldier at Bunker Hill," if the topics 
must be taken out of history and geography. 

The suggestion under discussion finds a vivid illustration 
in the following occurrence. The boys in a sixth-year class 
were writing a composition on "Election Day," the holiday 
of the week. Why children must write in each class "How 

I spent my " is not altogether understood by the lay 

mind. But certain it is that, as sure as the kind fates bring 
a holiday, the meaner ones will always suggest to the teacher 
the inevitable topic for composition. The teacher's outline 
on the board called for (1) meaning of the day, (2) who 
votes, (3) how they vote, (4) importance of voting, (5) what 
officers were to be elected, (6) do they vote in other coun- 
tries? where? The composition turned out the average life- 
9 



122 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

less products of the class-room. The cause is obvious. The 
children wrote on "Election Day" from the adult's point 
of view. To the child "Election Day" means one thing: 
fires, fights, obtaining of fuel, organizing boys on the block 
for the great feat, choosing a leader, and the joy of watching 
the flames of a well-built fire. To the adult "Election Day" 
means all the serious aspects connected with exercising one's 
suffrage. Let the boy write on "How We Built our Bonfire" 
and the result is a boy's expression of a boy's "Election 
Day." Have him write on the "Social Importance of Vot- 
ing" and the dull, formal, mechanical product that is so 
common in our schools is the inevitable result. 

A second suggestion counsels that the children write with 
a conviction that the composition will be read by a particu- 
lar person in the class. Let them choose their friends with 
whom they will exchange compositions. The child must 
feel that, although he is in school, he is writing from the 
same motives that prevail in real social intercourse. If the 
week's composition is a letter, have it addressed to his neigh- 
bor instead of an imaginary cousin in Switzerland; the next 
composition brings an answer from each child, addressed to 
the original writer. Written work, thus vitalized and made 
real, shows spirit and spontaneity that formal class compo- 
sitions usually lack. 

A study of the notes that children pass around the room 
surreptitiously, and a comparison of these with the regular 
class compositions teach a very interesting lesson. These 
epistles, when judged as composition exercises, are often bet- 
ter than the regular compositions given with all the pomp 
and the explanation of a preparatory period. The result 
is due chiefly to the fact that these notes spring from the two 
motives mentioned — they were written because the child 
really had something urgent to express and there was some 
one definite individual to whom he had to speak his mind. 
The urgency was so great that the child assumed the grave 
risks attending such procedures. But when an indifferent 
topic is imposed upon a child and he must address himself to 



Social Content of the Curriculum 123 

no particular person, the inevitable result must be a social 
vacuum. 

III. The Esthetic Factor 

Its Function. — The aim of the aesthetic factor in the curric- 
ulum is to give an appreciation of true beauty and sublimity. 
It enriches our conception of life by introducing into it a 
pleasure economy. - Our natural surroundings, a brook, a 
sunset, a starry sky, a beautiful canvas, a harmonious sound 
— all these are not merely objects which cause sensations and 
result in perceptions. They enter our consciousness accom- 
panied by feelings of agreeableness, fraught with suggestion; 
there is a positive and distinctive element of pleasure in them. 
This pleasurable accompaniment is universal. It is charac- 
teristic of every stage of human development. This aesthetic 
craving is as inherent in the savage as it is in civilized man. 
The soul's craving for the joy which is experienced in the 
expression of this art impulse leads to an imitation, both con- 
scious and unconscious, of the aesthetic elements of the en- 
vironment. Art, in all its forms, is a concrete objective mani- 
festation of the finer impulses in human life, and distinguishes 
man from his lower animal forms as unmistakably as do his 
physical and intellectual characteristics. 

Butler, in his study, "What Knowledge is Most Worth," 
quotes a splendid passage on the influence of the aesthetic : 
"We gaze upon the painted canvas till its beauty has entered 
our soul. The splendor of the beauty lights up within us 
depths unrevealed ; and far down our inner consciousness we 
discover something that responds to the beauty on which we 
have been gazing. It is as though a former friend revealed 
himself to us. There is here a recognition. And therewith 
comes a yearning, a longing for something. What does it 
mean? The recognition is of the ideal. Toward the full rec- 
ognition of this insight into the greater workings of the spirit 
higher education should bend all its energies." 

Justification for the Esthetic Element in the Modern Cur- 
riculum.— The aesthetic element has a place in our present cur- 



124 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

riculum because our modern psychology is broader. It 
recognizes feeling as the initial mental gift which is basic in 
our psychic development. It justifies the position which 
drawing, design, painting, music, and nature study have 
been given in our courses of study. Those to whom the three 
R's are still the educational "consummation devoutly to be 
wished for" have raised the hue and cry against these sub- 
jects and have dubbed them the "fads and frills." Their 
main argument reduces itself to the fact that only the artistic- 
ally gifted will follow drawing or painting or singing seri- 
ously. "These subjects are of so little use in the average 
person's life that we are not warranted in according them a 
permanent and positive place in the elementary school." 
Their view-point is correct, but their argument is misapplied. 
Who, other than the teacher, uses arithmetic beyond the sim- 
ple operations of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and 
division, simple fractions, decimals and percentage? Who 
needs all the facts of geography, or of history, with its dates, 
battles, long forgotten disputes and policies? What applica- 
tion can the average person make of abstract and collective 
noun, of "chair is in the neuter gender," and of "a participle 
used as a gerund"? But the beautiful is about us all the 
time. Music, poetry, and art are ever present in our imme- 
diate environment. If at this day educational theory is to be 
determined by stupid prejudice, then those who oppose the 
"fads and frills," in order to be consistent, must advocate less 
time to geography, history, and arithmetic, and more time to 
the "fads and frills." They fail to realize that the curricu- 
lum is not trying to make artists of our children, but merely 
endeavoring to inculcate in them a love for the aesthetic and 
to train them in the recognition of the beautiful. 

Prevailing Misconceptions in Teaching Music. — The typi- 
cal, modern elementary school curriculum offers drawing, 
music, nature study, and literature, as means of realizing 
these aesthetic ideals. To these subjects we must apply the 
pragmatic tost, "Do they accomplish their purpose?" Let us 
examine the respective assignments in some of the representa- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 125 

tive elementary school curricula in search of the answer to this 
pressing question. The course of study in music in one of 
our first-rate cities prescribes the following work for elemen- 
tary school pupils of the fifth and sixth years : 

5A. Development of chromatic tones as they occur 
in songs and melodic exercises; continuation of the 
study of the nine ordinary keys with their signatures ; 
the dotted quarter-note in two-part, three-part, and 
four-part measure ; explanation of the meaning and use 
of all signs of expression and of phrasing as they oc- 
cur; writing easy melodic phrases from hearing. 

5B. Development of rhythm, including syncopa- 
tions and subdivisions of the metrical unit into three 
parts (triplets) and four parts in various forms; writ- 
ing of scales with their signatures, employing different 
rhythms ; song interpretation. 

6 A. Development of the minor scale ; songs for two- 
voice parts ; writing of easy melodies from hearing. 

6B. Sight singing in unison and two parts; chro- 
matic tones approached by skips; writing of melodies 
from hearing. 

Another course of study in one of our very large cities 
assigns the following work : 

Grade IV. (a) One-part and two-part exercises and 
songs in the nine common major keys and in the fol- 
lowing kinds of time : two-four, three-four, four- four, 
three-eight, and six-eight. 

(b) Mental effect of the whole step and half step, 
up and down. 

(c) .Sharp one, sharp two, sharp five, as follows: 
two, sharp one, two ; three, sharp two, three ; six, sharp 
five, six. 

(d) Flat seven, as follows: six, flat seven, six; 
eight, flat seven, six. 

(e) Further study of sharp four and flat seven, ap- 
proached from all other tones of the scale. 



126 Education as Sociological Ad jus! incut 

(f) Dotted quarter-note followed by the eighth- 
note. 

(g) Beginning on the last half of the beat (the 
after-beat note). 

(h) Keys and key signatures should be taught in 
this grade. 

(i) Memorize the following table of major keys: — 
C; one sharp, G; two sharps, D; three sharps, A; four 
sharps, E. One flat, F; two flats, B flat; three flats, 
E flat ; four flats, A flat. 

Grade VI. (a) Oral and written review of the 
nine common major keys; the dotted eighth-note fol- 
lowed by the sixteenth-note • four equal sounds to a 
beat. 

(b) One-part, two-part, and three-part songs and 
exercises in various major and minor keys. 

(c) Continuation of the study of chromatics as 
follows: seven, flat seven, six; six, flat six, five; five, 
flat five, four; three, flat three, two; two, flat two, one. 

(d) Chromatic scale, ascending and descending. 

(e) The harmonic and melodic minor scales. 

(f) The singing of the major and minor tonic 
triads. 

(g) The triplet (three equal sounds to a beat), 
(h) Other fractional divisions of the beat. 

(i) Signature and names of the 15 major keys. 

(j) Meaning and pronunciation of the following 
terms: allegro, moderato, andante, vivace, rallentando, 
ritardando, molto, a tempo, poco a poco, da capo, dal 
segno, fine. 

A characteristic assignment of still another course of study 
in music in one of our leading municipal educational sys- 
tems reads: 

Grade 4A. All chromatic tones represented by a 
sharp, double sharp, and cancel, in half-step progres- 
sions; and skipping from chromatic tones, represented 



Social Content of the Curriculum 127 

by a sharp, double sharp, and cancel, to remote scale 
tones. 

Grade 5B. Individual work: The pupil should 
know the arithmetic of music, and the theory of com- 
mon time. Sixty-five per cent, should sing at sight any 
exercise in the third and fourth series of the Indi- 
vidual Sight-singing Method, and produce satisfactory 
work. 

Grades 6A and 6B. Individual work: Each pupil 
should know how to write the fifteen key signatures 
in correct position, and to use correctly the five chro- 
matic characters in writing; also, the theory of com- 
mon and compound time. Sixty-five per cent, should 
be able to sing at sight any exercise in the fourth and 
fifth series of the Individual Sight-singing Method, 
and selected exercises from the sixth series; also, satis- 
factory written work shouM be procured. 

Tune : Position of sharps and flats in signature. 

The five chromatic characters in singing and 
writing. 

Chromatic tones in half-step progression ascending 
and descending. Skipping from a chromatic tone to 
a remote scale tone ; skipping from a scale tone to a 
remote chromatic tone. 

If music, as a school subject, is to be a means of inculcat- 
ing an aesthetic sense and a love for the melodious in sound, 
these courses of study show a lack of appreciation of this 
basic principle. In their attempt to give the technique and 
the science of music, they manifest clearly their misconcep- 
tion of the function of music in the elementary school. The 
art side of music, which almost inevitably leads to an appre- 
ciation of music, is thoroughly subordinated. These assign- 
ments teach the children about music but not music itself. It 
is a common experience to find sixth grade children recite: 
"There are three forms of the minor scales, natural, harmonic, 
and melodic, each beginning on six and ending on six," but 



128 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

when one is asked: "When would you use a minor scale?", 
the answer cannot be obtained. Occasionally a response is 
elicited, but there is little difficulty in detecting in the me- 
chanical answer that the words, "In a sad song," were mem- 
orized. There is no doubt in the observer's mind that the 
children do not feel the appeal of the minor scale. That 
method of teaching music which requires children to live in 
a complex terminology, to juggle "syncopation," "major dia- 
tonic," "chromatics," to write intervals from dictation, and 
which gives them a minimum of song, robs the subject of the 
inspiration and the joy with which it is saturated. 

The Science vs. the Art of Music. — These typical courses 
of study in music have not yet shaken themselves free from 
unattainable disciplinary aims and the dead formalism which 
these bring. The introductions to these courses of study are 
replete with pretentious claims which these disciplinary values 
prompt. The teacher is told that the singing lesson "should 
aid in discipline, and in forming habits of order, attention, 
and concentration ; it should train the memory, give power of 
instant decision, and educate in the perception of minute dif- 
ferences. It should train the eye and the ear, and in general 
should sharpen the perception. Pupils should be taught to 
listen and to hear accurately." Another course in music fol- 
lowed in one of our large cities says: "The study of the 
science of music develops individual independence, concentra- 
tion, self-control, and mental and physical alertness." These 
extravagant demands have their origin in the enthusiasm of 
over-zealous advocates of the teaching of music. 

What Shall Music Give the Child?— All the habits of con- 
centration and attention, all the improvement of memory and 
instantaneous judgmenl that our music lessons can give are 
not worth the effort of mere mention. If, as a result of the 
music taught in the public schools, the child turned in disgust 
from the ordinary coarse "rag-time" and sentimental ditties, 
and showed a decided preference for the innumerable pretty 
ballads and folk songs, the highest function of the subject 
would be realized. 



Social Content of the Curriculum 129 

Instead of giving all these technicalities, this finesse of the 
science of music, the music curriculum should be so organized 
that it would correlate with the memory gems. After a 
Scotch ballad has been taught, the poem explained, its mean- 
ing and spirit grasped, and the child has memorized it, the 
music should be introduced. Let the child learn the language 
that music speaks. Let him see how the spirit is intensified. 
The function of music will then be clear to him. How much 
more would Tennyson's "Sweet and Low" mean if taught in 
this way. At the end of a few terms of work of this nature 
the children would realize that music is a language which 
addresses itself to the heart. How many of us have ever heard 
our children voluntarily or spontaneously begin to sing a 
song learned in applying the science of music? Is it not 
almost conclusive proof that music in our elementary schools 
is not doing to-day all that is claimed for it and all that it 
can legitimately accomplish ? 

Drawing as a Study of Technique. — The same basic princi- 
ples can be used as a guide in the interpretation and applica- 
tion of a rational course in drawing in the elementary schools. 
Its art side makes drawing a vital medium of self-expression. 
Its science side turns it into a mechanical, formal, deadening 
class-room exercise, devoid of all pleasure and inspiration. 

It is obvious, therefore, that in the course of a drawing 
lesson the teacher must not allow the laws of proportion, 
placing, perspective of curves and of straight lines, laws of 
balance, unity and harmony of design, etc., to become focal, 
and thus exclude the conception of beauty. An eighth year 
class that spent four weeks in drawing the frying pan in 
every conceivable position, applying more or less mechanically 
the laws learned, but that had not discussed a single picture 
for months, was being treated exclusively to technique of 
drawing, but not to drawing. It is always a sad sight to see 
children drawing cubes, prisms, cylinders and the other 
geometric forms in their free hand drawing lessons. One does 
not meet geometric forms in his daily life. The objects in the 
immediate surroundings follow their general structure ; chil- 



130 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

dren should hence be taught to draw these, not the geometric 
blocks. The same principles of perspective of curves can be 
studied in drawing a mug or a glass as in drawing a cylinder; 
the same laws of convergence of straight lines can be taught 
in drawing a pencil box or a cigar box as in drawing a cube. 
The drawing of a real object always shows better results. 
The reason is obvious. Drawing is a medium of expression; 
an expressional art. Just as a child feels no urgency to ex- 
press himself in writing a composition on "Trees," so, too, 
he feels no spirit and interest in drawing a regular cube, a 
perfect cone, or a pyramid. As an observer studies the prog- 
ress of the grades and watches the development of freehand 
drawing, he realizes that the work becomes more arduous 
to the child. The reason is easily found. In the low grades 
drawing as an expressional exercise is emphasized. The child 
draws rooms, houses, men ; he tells his story pictorially as he 
does verbally in another lesson. But in the upper grades this 
expressional aspect is lost. The study of technique, of lines, 
of perspective of straight lines and curves, — all these monop- 
olize the lesson. In an eighth year grade observed, the gallon 
measure was the object for drawing. The children in the 
class spent two weeks studying the handle and the spout in 
various positions. AYhile such accurate and detailed work is 
a necessary training in the art school, less formalism, more 
free and spirited exercises, and more expressional work mark 
the needs of an elementary school course. 

No course in drawing, designed for an entire educational 
system, can possibly hope to approximate the aesthetic stand- 
ard if it omits systematic work in picture study, and neglects 
critical analyses of the artistic masterpieces. If class-room 
drawing is to be an expressional exercise and art is to be re- 
garded as an expression of the besl aspirations of the masters, 
the picture-study period must be .is dignified and as serious as 
the period for the si inly of the Literary masterpiece. Just as 
the child learns to see behind the symbols, to interpret the 
visual elements on the printed page, and thus know the au- 
thor's story and feel his emotional appeal, so, too, the pupil 



Social Gov tent of the Curriculum. 131 

must learn to look into the canvas, to interpret the lines, 
colors, forms, until he has caught the content and the inspira- 
tion of the master's message. 

To Butler, "The Literary and the iEsthetic Factors" are 
the elements that form that "knowledge which is most 
worth" in the social content of the curriculum. He is a type 
of the Hegelian philosopher in education, who feels that the 
greatest gift in life is undoubtedly mind. The most dynamic 
mind-stirring force is thought or inspiration, not fact. Liter- 
ature and the aesthetics, conceived in the throes of ecstatic 
joy, born in the uncontrollable desire for the expression of 
the sublime, give that mental impetus and that emotional 
inspiration which make them the knowledge that is most 
worth in the social content of the school's curriculum. 



SUGGESTED READING 
(List Given at the End of the Topic, Chapter IX.) 



CHAPTER IX 

SOCIAL CONTENT OF THE CURRICULUM 
(Concluded) 

IV. The Institutional Factor 

Meaning of Institutional Sense. — The study of the ele- 
ments of the necessary racial experience to which each of us 
is heir, must now take a decided turn. The scientific facts 
of life are essential. The thoughts and ideals of literature 
and art must undoubtedly be given their place in racial 
knowledge. Thus far the discussion has considered the con- 
tent of the curriculum from almost an individualistic point 
of view. What will reflect the social organization in life? 
No curriculum can possibly be complete unless it seeks to in- 
still in each child an institutional sense, an institutional feel- 
ing. What, then, is the institutional sense? It is a conscious- 
ness that every person is a social unit, that he is an essential 
element in an organized society, and that there is a machin- 
ery for social control to which he must submit. It tries to 
bring home to the child that life is a give-and-take affair, 
that we owe an obligation to society for each privilege that we 
receive from society, that each of us must show due respect 
for the laws, the customs, and the standards of society, that 
we must obey them voluntarily or be forced to obedience by 
the machinery that is established for that purpose. 

How Instil This Institutional Sense. — How can the school 
instil this institutional sense, this social consciousness? There 
are two means that are open to it. The first is the method 
within the curriculum, which consists of teaching that subject- 
matter which reproduces the life of man, his struggles within 

132 



Social Content of the Curriculum 133 

his environment, his relations and adjustments to the social 
institutions about him. Literature and history are well able 
to meet these needs and give this social view. Civics is added, 
for it studies the laws on which society operates, and by 
means of which the social functions of all institutions are 
determined. Ethics completes this group, for it seeks to estab- 
lish proper laws of social conduct. The second means of in- 
stilling an institutional sense lies in the discipline and gov- 
ernment that the school imposes on the children. We must 
now analyze the scope and the efficiency of each of these 
media of enabling education to exercise its socializing in- 
fluence. 

1. The Curriculum and the Institutional Sense. — A con- 
ception of the nature of history, which groups it with litera- 
ture, civics, and ethics, must, of necessity, study man. It tries 
to give the child a picture of man's life in the past, a life 
amid real struggles and temptations, to show how man fell or 
overcame them. Histor}', then, shows us in the proper per- 
spective the moral life and growth of man. It gives the child 
a sub-stratum of morality on which he can build a future 
ethical life. The precepts and examples which the child learns 
when history is properly interpreted for him, sink deep ; there 
they lie, dormant possibilities, ready to blossom when the 
moral conflicts of later life arise. 

With such a social function, history must be something 
more than a mere record of man's past achievements. The 
child must not merely be projected into the past to live there; 
history must point modernward. To say that history studies 
man in the past is true, but this is an incomplete scope of its 
functions. If it were the only or the controlling end of his- 
tory to study man's achievements in the past, what need to 
spend so much time and energy in the teaching of it when 
we are preparing the child for future life? Geography 
studies man in the present, not the past, hence it is of great 
importance in the adjustment process. History must take 
its cue from geography and make the study of man in the 
present its ultimate aim and final justification. 



134 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

In teaching history the underlying question which every 
teacher must ask is: "How am I helping the child to under- 
stand present society ; am I leading the pupil to a fuller real- 
ization of present institutional life?" By this standard the 
curricula and the methods of teaching history must stand or 
fall. In the light of the demands of educational theory, the 
average high school curriculum in history, with its first two 
years devoted to ancient and mediaeval history, its third year 
to English history, and the fourth to the United States, shows 
an emphasis on past ages and a neglect of modern American 
and European history which well merit the adverse criticism 
and the scorn with which the progressive historian regards 
it. Applying the same standard to some of the best school 
text-books in history, we find an organization based on an 
equally perverted relative proportion. Fully one-third of 
these books is devoted to Pre-Revolutionary history ; the second 
third concerns itself with the Revolutional and the Critical 
periods, and the early administrations through the War of 
1812. The rest of the book studies the country's history 
through the Civil War, with great respect for details, and 
sums up the progress of the last forty years in a few pages. 
Every thinking student of history and political science must 
quarrel with such an organization which has only tradition to 
justify it. History is fast changing color. If history is only 
past politics and past legislation, then the -politics and the 
legislation of to-day are the history of to-morrow. Legisla- 
tion is now assuming a different character in its attempt to 
keep abreast of the social and economic progress of the com- 
munity; it no longer gives itself over to political theory, but 
to problems of economics, of industrial life and organization, 
of social iniquities, — to problems of vital human importance. 
All the questions of corporate organization, of trust control, 
of commission government, of tariff revisions, of readjust- 
ments among economic interest and economic classes, — all 
these form the politics of to-day. Bu1 these problems all have 
their origin and their development in the last three or four 
decades of our country's life. History's most vital contribu- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 135 

tion toward the problem of social adjustment is lost in the 
slavish imitation of the traditional disproportionate and dis- 
torted emphasis on tSie past. 

History which justifies the past in terms of the present 
is a dynamic study, a subject living and breathing, possess- 
ing a human spirit. The history that is so often taught in 
elementary and secondary schools, with its glorification of 
dates, places, names, battles, administrations, is hardly his- 
tory unless all these are subordinated in an attempt to give 
the child the steps in the growth of our republican form of 
government, of liberty, of free speech, of free press, in a 
word, the progress in the reclamation of the inalienable rights 
of the sovereign citizen. A school principal, after examining 
a class in English History, was vexed at the poor results; 
he stopped the test, and developed for the class the genealog- 
ical tree of the second half of the History of England, giving 
all the rulers, reigns, dates, etc., in proper chronological se- 
quence. At the end he triumphantly exclaimed : ' ' There you 
have a bird's-eye view of English History." History? No! 
It was a combination of dead facts and social archaeology, 
thoroughly static, without life or human spirit. To empha- 
size all this, and neglect the Magna Charta, Bill of Rights, in- 
dustrial revolution, growth of representative government, the 
Chartist Movement, — the mile posts on the road of human 
progress, — shows an unpardonable lack of social imagination 
and historic perspective. 

McMurry asks : ' ' What knowledge is most worth ? ' ' He, 
too, like the others whom we have considered, bases his answer 
on his conception of the function of education. Like a faith- 
ful Herbartian, he makes character and conduct the final aim 
of the school and education. What history, with its lessons 
in civics and ethics, contributes toward this aim has just 
been outlined ; hence it occupies the place of honor among the 
school subjects. History gives the social content of life, 
hence it is first; science the physical content, hence it holds 
second place ; but arithmetic, grammar, penmanship, element- 
ary reading, are the formal subjects; they give only the sym- 



136 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

bols of knowledge, but add nothing new to the intellectual 
possessions of the race; hence they bring up the rear of the 
list. History, in the dynamic sense that we have discussed, 
is the "knowledge of most worth" in the social content of 
the curriculum according to the Herbartians. 

2. Socializing through Proper Discipline. — But to know 
is one thing, to do is something very different. As a result 
of proper teaching the child may have a comprehensive idea 
of our social organization, our mutual interdependence; he 
may know in a general way what is right and what is not, 
but there is no surety that he will act in accordance with 
the concepts that we have tried to establish. The child may 
understand social life, but he may not live it. Thus one 
may know the history of religion, and nevertheless be un- 
godly. One may know the laws and technique of music, 
and nevertheless remain tone-deaf and insensible to the 
beautiful in sound. So, too, the pupil may have a clear 
comprehension of our social institutions, but nevertheless be 
unsocial. 

Psychologically, the reason is simple. Action is a matter 
in the realm of will ; comprehension, of the intellect. When 
we try to instil an institutional sense through the curriculum 
we are appealing to the intellect primarily, and only in- 
directly and marginally to the will. Hence there results 
comprehension, but no guarantee of action. It is evi- 
dent that we must turn to a second means of instilling 
the institutional sense, a means that makes the will focal, 
and seeks its training and control, viz., proper school disci- 
pline. 

The school must at all times be considered a miniature 
community. Discipline is therefore its machinery of control, 
which seeks to make the child realize that he is a social unit, 
an integral and necessary part of that community, with duties 
and obligations to his neighbors, with rights and privileges 
which are safeguarded by social rules and regulations. Does 
school discipline succeed in inculcating this social attitude in 
our children? With great reluctance we must admit that, too 



Social Content of the Curriculum 137 

often, it falls far short of the mark. The causes are many 
and simple. 

Limitations in the Prevailing School Discipline. — The first 
reason for the shortcomings of school discipline was suggested 
in the initial chapter. There, complaint was made that all 
school rules are blind and arbitrary, without justification in 
the eyes of the child. Teachers do not explain the need for 
them, therefore the pupil does not realize that ' ' Do not talk, ' ' 
"Come early," etc., are rules made necessary by the social 
school organization. He does not see that when he disobeys 
he is interfering with others ; if he talks, others cannot listen ; 
if he comes late, he disturbs those who come early. The 
children do not realize that if there were five or six pupils in 
a class, coming late would not be a social offense, that talking 
would be allowed, for it would lead to mutual help; but with 
forty-five receiving instruction simultaneously, coining late 
is a social injustice, whispering means only mutual inter- 
ference and social chaos. Since they see no social justification 
in these regulations, their obedience becomes as blind and 
arbitrary as the rules themselves, and must therefore be 
forced. Character and useful conduct are not results of 
such government. The conclusion that was implied counseled 
that the teacher should explain the rules, give reasons for 
new regulations, so that the child would realize the social 
necessity of obedience. 

A second reason for the shortcomings of school discipline 
is to be found in the fact that we take a wrong attitude toward 
misconduct on the part of the child; we consider a child's 
offense as a personal affront, rather than as a sin against the 
class. The child is made to feel that it is the teacher who is 
hurt, that the teacher punishes him in the same spirit in 
which he himself would take vindictive measures if another 
child offended him. The class,' too, is made to feel that when 
the teacher punishes one of its members he or she is checking 
up a personal score. If discipline is to be based on the theory 
we just mentioned, viz., a force made necessary by the social 
or community life of the school, then each offense is a sin 
10 



138 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

against the class, and the class must resent it. A child who is 
sent out of the assembly hall for misconduct has not offended 
the teacher. He has hurt the standing of the class in the eyes 
of the school. A child who is taken out in a fire drill; one 
who stays away on the slightest provocation; one who is fre- 
quently tardy, — all these hurt the record of the class. The 
teacher who asks in stentorian tones: "How dare you dis- 
grace me?" can hope for no sympathy from the class. She 
has made the issue a personal matter. She has authority, 
power, and force which outweigh the child's. The class feels 
that the fight is uneven enough. Their sympathies go nat- 
urally to the weaker side, the culprit. They feel sure that the 
victory will be the teacher's. 

A final reason which explains the failure of school disci- 
pline to develop an institutional sense is the misconception of 
the aim of school discipline to be " continual control of the 
individual." This is the direct opposite of the end of true 
discipline. Proper school government never sets up "con- 
tinual control of the individual" as its ultimate endeavor. 
If it did, it would make him dependent, hopeless, and irre- 
sponsible. The final goal of discipline must be self-control. 
In the capacity of disciplinarian, the teacher forces the indi- 
vidual into the same rut; day in and day out, she makes the 
same demands of conduct, of punctuality, of neatness in work, 
of neatness in attire, until by dint of repetition the child does 
the proper thing from force of habit, and not because of con- 
stant direction from without. Discipline, therefore, must 
lead to self-management. According to the prevailing notion, 
a good disciplinarian is one who controls the children at all 
times, in all activities. 

"Order" and "Discipline" Contrasted. — Teachers often 
confuse "order" with "discipline"; they use them synony- 
mously, as if the terms were interchangeable. By "order," 
in the technical sense, is meant that condition of class man- 
agement in which the children are absolutely quiet, the 
teacher is the undisputed master whose authority is never 
challenged. It is based on fear, and is maintained by con- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 139 

slant unrelenting watching. Every manifestation of indi- 
viduality is construed as a sign of disorder and at once sup- 
pressed. Both teaching and management are carried on with 
military spirit and precision. 

In "discipline," on the contrary, the children do the right 
thing from a sense of obedience or from force of habit. There 
is no consciousness of fear, there is no strained effect through- 
out the class. The children know what is wanted, they do it 
without receiving every petty order, without constant watch- 
ing and direction. In a well disciplined class simple privileges 
may be extended to the pupils. They have a sense of conduct 
which keeps them within bounds. Children whose behavior 
has been brought to such a point do not ask permission "to 
throw waste paper into the trash basket" or "to leave the 
room." When a convenient opportunity arises they go to the 
basket on their own initiative ; in the meantime they put the 
waste paper into their pockets or desks. "When physical 
needs make necessary a temporary absence from the room, 
they do not break the unity of the lesson by hand raising, 
but quietly and inconspicuously "tiptoe" to the back of the 
room, enter their names into a book kept for such a record, 
and then leave the class. When a stranger enters such a 
room and engages the teacher in conversation, they busy them- 
selves at some unfinished task or begin an assignment for the 
next day. The apparent absence of the machinery of social 
control is the chief differentiating characteristic of that con- 
dition of classroom management which we call "discipline" 
as opposed to "order." 

A class that has "order" but no "discipline" cannot be 
given such liberties. When such children come to a teacher 
who does give them liberties, they break out. Strict "order" 
as a final end of class government leads to an arrested devel- 
opment. The noise and busy hubbub of well disciplined chil- 
dren intent on their task are far more welcome than the op- 
pressive, stilted silence of the class where "order" is based on 
fear and maintained by unceasing surveillance. The class 
that is disciplined is orderly, but the class that is orderly is 



14() Education as Sociological Adjustment 

not necessarily disciplined. The test lies in the ability for 
self -direction. 

"Discipline" and "order" are relative conditions of class 
management. It becomes obvious, therefore, that one must 
always be sure of "order" first. Obedience is a primary 
social requisite. Hence "discipline," as denned education- 
ally, is hardly possible in classes below the fourth or fifth 
year. We must not find fault with the primary teacher for 
having "order" and not "discipline." The fault lies in the 
advanced grades. The quarrel must be with those teachers of 
the upper classes who have excellent "order," but seldom 
change to "discipline," with its self-government basis. They 
continue to keep controlling the children and deny them the 
chance of developing self-directed conduct. 

Means of Developing Self -Government. — The most effect- 
ive means of teaching children the art of self-direction thus 
far successfully evolved are: (1) the organization of clubs and 
the participation in club life and club affairs, and (2) the 
organization of the self-government plan in the public schools. 
In the latter, the social organization of the school reproduces 
some form of social organization of real life. The school has 
its mayor, chief of police, health commissioner, police officers, 
judges, etc. Every teacher is relieved of the responsibility of 
the children's conduct out of her class. The upper class 
pupils take care of assemblies, yards, stairs, etc., arrest the 
nuisances, bring them up on charges before the judge, who 
sentences them according to a definite code. The child is 
taught very plainly that an act of misconduct is an offense 
against the school, for he is punished by his schoolmates. 
Self-government when tried as a school plan with an enthusi- 
astic principal and cooperating corps of teachers is usually 
successful. But when the plan is applied to a single class the 
results are rather unsuccessful. The reason is obvious. With 
a weak disciplinarian it is well nigh impossible to carry out 
such a scheme. The strong teacher feels thai she can do very 
well without it. There seems to be no motive that would lead 
her to adopt it. In the final analysis she, more than the 



Social Content of the Curriculum 141 

weaker teacher, needs the influence of some form of self- 
government. 

George Junior Republic. — The principle of self-govern- 
ment receives its greatest encouragement and finds its most 
successful illustration in the George Junior Republic. The 
Republic is a colony situated in Freeville, N. Y., within an 
area apparently not under the jurisdiction of the laws of 
New York State, except in very serious cases. To it boys and 
girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one are sent for 
offenses which range from petty theft and mere unruliness to 
serious crime. Its organization is modeled after the United 
States, for it has a president, two houses, a judiciary, a con- 
stabulary, a jail, a health department, a mint, — all the socially 
necessary institutions. All the officers are elected by the in- 
mates from their own members. It is a government of, by, 
and for these boys and girls, the citizen body. 

The motto of the Republic is "Nothing Without Labor." 
To carry out this policy the colony offers work at almost 
any occupation to its citizens. It has its own money, which 
has the usual monetary value and function, within its own 
borders. To earn money for living expenses a boy or girl 
must work on the farm, or in the houses, as porter or cham- 
bermaid, in the bakery, in the printing or the carpenter's 
shop, at blacksmithing, etc. The workers are paid a per diem 
rate by the Republic or by a contractor, a citizen, himself 
committed to the colony, but who has through thrift and 
economy saved enough to rent land, build a store, and open a 
restaurant or sundry business of his own. 

Lodging can be had for prices varying from ten to twenty- 
five cents a night, depending on the style and comfort that 
is desired. Meals can be had at the same variety of prices, 
according to the Epicurean tastes of the citizen. A boy or 
girl, admitted, is given employment, but he or she need not 
work. Food cannot be had without money. Lodging must be 
paid for in advance. The person who refuses to work may 
loaf and enjoy himself, until he becomes hungry, then he be- 
gins to think. At night he has no bed and before he realizes 



142 Education as Sociological Adjust moil 

the full force of the predieamenl the Republic policeman 
arrests him for vagrancy. He spends the oighl in a disagree- 
able jail and the next day the judge sentences him to forced 
labor in the jail yard until he has paid off his fine and can 
satisfy the authorities that he will keep fed and housed for 
a minimum time. Jail prices are low and jail work hard ; he 
learns to do half the work for double pay as a free man and 
to keep out of the policeman's path. If a boy or girl steals, 
the victim calls for the police at once. He worked for his 
money honestly, he resents losing it in such a manner. If a 
person shirks while on a job, the contractor discharges him ; 
he can get better workers and make more; he is responsible 
for the economical conduct of his office. 

The basic idea is contained in the social conception. Our 
own society is so large and unwieldy that an act against 
society is hardly felt by the individual citizen. Theoretically, 
an injury to one is the concern of all. The George Junior 
Republic is so small that social interdependence is felt. The 
Republic tries to upbuild moral wrecks by making them live 
social lives and feel the consequences of unsocial conduct. 

The skeptic as well as the intensely interested student of 
education and sociology asks, ''Has the scheme succeeded? 
Is it proving worth while?" The nature and the scope of 
the influence of the George Junior Republic can only be sug- 
gested in the limited space thai is available. A mere affirma- 
tive answer to these questions does not suffice. One must 
actually see the changed spirit, the new life, the reclaimed 
social wrecks, to appreciate the moral force of this self-gov- 
ernment colony. 

V. The Religious and Moral Factor 

Religion the All-controlling Factor in Education of the 
Pa3t. — The racial inheritance would hardly be complete with- 
out a knowledge of the great religious forces operative in its 
growth. During the formative stage of society, religion was 
the all-pervading influence in life. It encompassed and con- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 143 

trolled its political, economic, industrial, and social phases. 
No phase of civilization escaped its control. Every school 
curriculum was first religious, then educational. The school 
was only the specialized institution of the church. Its aim 
was to spread and perpetuate the doctrine of that religious 
denomination which supported it. Since the church was its 
parent, the school breathed religion in its curriculum, organi- 
zation, and spirit. Comenius, who marks the beginning of 
modern educational thought, asserts that it must be the aim 
of education to make man live in the happiness of God and 
in harmony with His teachings. 

Waning Influence of Religion in Education. — But with the 
advent of the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries the in- 
fluence of religion in education has gradually waned until it 
has only a mere vestige of its former power. These changes 
were brought about by a variety of causes reaching into every 
phase of human life. The church, like any other great insti- 
tution that depends upon the good will, the inspiration, and 
the energy of man, found that abuses were inevitable. Its 
gospel was often misinterpreted and misapplied, its inspira- 
tion was often dissipated in the extravagances of fanaticism. 
The growing spirit of independence in politics is reflected in 
other realms. Religion was bound to suffer, for its basis of 
faith implies the subordination of individuality to unques- 
tioned authority. With the separation of church from state 
came a wide-spread belief that education is a secular function, 
which the state must discharge. With the change of sov- 
ereignty from the few to the many, the controlling power of 
religion in education was undermined. In addition to all 
these debilitating forces, religion had to contend with the 
growth of science and the popularization of realism in edu- 
cation. Religion often stubbornly opposed these, remained 
static, and refused to acknowledge the onward march of civili- 
zation. It paid dearly for its shortsightedness, losing in pres- 
tige and power. 

Ethics Teaching the Only Religious Teaching in Public 
Education. — The only religious education that we tolerate in 



144 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

the public schools of our country is the form that knows no 
denominations but teaches what is common to them all, the 
ethical basis with its prescriptions for individual and social 
conduct. These are interpreted by teachers so that the lessons 
teach, not toleration with its mean spirit of condescension, but 
respect for all belief. 

Systems of Religious Education. — In this country, free 
from traditions rooted in mediaevalism, it is not difficult to 
throw off the yoke of denominational religious education in 
the public schools. On the continent, these conditions are too 
deep-rooted. Elementary education, there, often shows a 
more intimate association with religion. "Where religious edu- 
cation is given with secular elementary education, one of two 
common practices is followed. The first system, popular in 
many sections of England, provides for periods when the 
regular school schedules are set aside and the children are 
sent to different classes assigned to the respective denomina- 
tions. Here the children receive regular systematic instruc- 
tion from their religious leaders. Being so closely allied with 
the public school, the religious teachers follow a curriculum 
which corresponds and correlates with the geography, history, 
civics, and literature of the various grades. This method 
makes unnecessary the Sunday School, an institution 
peculiarly American. At a recent meeting of Sunday School 
teachers there was a general unanimity of opinion that the 
results were far out of proportion to the time and energy 
spent by the teachers. A prevailing remedy that was offered 
declared that if the course of study were systematized and 
well graded in the Sunday School, so that it ran parallel in 
its development with the kindred school subjects, the children 
would be more interested and the teaching would be more 
effect i ve. 

The second system of incorporating religious education 
into elementary public instruction is carried on by state sub- 
sidies, which take the form of money grants or oilier material 
allowances. These varied forms of support are given to the 
schools established and conducted by the prominent denomi- 



Social Content of the Curriculum 145 

nations. The state maintains an indirect supervision by pre- 
scribing a minimum course of study of non-religious subjects. 
This system justifies itself on the theory that education is 
the social debt which the state owes its future citizens. The 
religious denomination which assumes the responsibility of 
this function should not also relieve the state of its legitimate 
expense. Many of the older countries of Europe gave its 
children an education through such an organization. It was 
a prevailing system in France prior to 1902. Recent serious 
disturbances between the French government and the clericals 
were precipitated, if not caused, by attempts on the part of 
the former to end this direct control of secular education by 
the church. 

Neither system meets with more than local or denomina- 
tional approval in our own country. There is a very strong 
and positive conviction that no scheme that can possibly be 
devised will prove popular for so heterogeneous a population 
as ours. The prevailing opinion regards the child as too im- 
mature to be taught religion in its true sense. All that seems 
possible is to appeal to the child emotionally, to his faith, his 
fear, his love, so that he becomes receptive. When the child 
is young he has only the religious feeling, not the religious 
comprehension. This emotional background, this emotional 
receptivity for future religious conception of a particular de- 
nomination, is too delicate to be entrusted to a public institu- 
tion. The church and the home must assume this respon- 
sibility. 

Lamentable Ignorance of the Bible.— But with this divorce 
of religion from education we have suffered an important 
loss, — the knowledge of biblical lore. The importance of the 
Bible as a literary standard and as an aid in the comprehen- 
sion of the allusions and symbols in art and literature is too 
obvious to need elucidation. The secondary school teachers 
and college instructors can testify to the prevailing ignorance 
of biblical knowledge. It would therefore be a very useful 
service to education if a supplementary reader were written 
bearing the stamped approval of all denominations so that it 



146 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

could be used in the public schools as a mere literary and 
cultural text. The numerous difficulties arising from petty 
objections of overzealous religious leaders have always made 
impossible the successful realization of such hopes. 

Another inestimable gain from such a biblical reader 
would be a knowledge of the history of ancient culture. He 
who does not know the names of the leading gods and god- 
desses and their immoral cohorts of Greek and Roman 
mythology is considered uncultured in the extreme. But no 
reflection is cast upon him whose ignorance of biblical lore, 
biblical personages, and incidents is truly abysmal. Not one 
student in a class of forty-five college seniors could char- 
acterize the Prophets, nor could name five of them, nor give 
a rational and comprehensive idea of their time, their mes- 
sage, their influence. All of them could talk freely of the 
deities of classic myths, all were proficient to an almost alarm- 
ing degree in the knowledge of the lasciviousness of Zeus and 
his under-gods. But not one knew of Jeremiah, Isaiah, Hosea, 
prophets whose religion Christ loved and whose inspiration 
he sang. 

What Knowledge Is Most Worth? 

Which of these factors shall we elect as the "most 
worth"? These five elements of the social content of the 
curriculum summarize the complete social inheritance of the 
race. For a harmonious, proportionate, cultural, and liberal 
view of the social environment, all are necessary. To empha- 
size one at the expense of the other means intellectual astig- 
matism. No one phase of the social content of the curricu- 
lum can be given a monopolistic place. In the socialization 
of the individual through the curriculum there is no abso- 
lute answer to "What Knowledge is Most Worth." 

But one must not champion the other extreme and assert 
an equality among the separate elements in the curriculum. 
Because no one element is the most important, it does not 
follow thai one phase is not more important than another. 



Social Content of the Curriculum 147 

There is a relativity of knowledge, a varying degree of im- 
portance of subjects ; but this is determined not for the indi- 
vidual by the school, but by the individual for the school. 

How Far shall Adjustment Extend ? — That subject is the 
more important for any individual which will be more use- 
ful to him in the life that he is to lead. Since the school 
does not know the chosen path of each, it becomes impossible 
to say positively what knowledge is worth more in the course 
of general education. To what extent, then, shall the school 
aim to adjust the individual? Should the child be adjusted 
to every possible condition? Will it meet every possible con- 
dition? Should every individual be given the same adjust- 
ment? Will every individual meet the same kind of sur- 
roundings and need the same kind of adjustment? What 
then must be the nature of the adjustment which the school 
is to give ; where shall it lay its emphasis ? 

In an earlier connection it was concluded that education 
must start on the basis that all are unequal, rather than 
equal, that each individual comes into his environment, 
strong and favored in one direction, weak or handicapped 
in another. From a mere cursory view it seems as if there 
were a social division of labor, as if each were naturally 
shaped to fit into a particular niche. Hence it was concluded 
that each individual must be trained to adjust himself to 
that environment and social function for which he seems best 
suited by nature's gifts. The student may go a step further 
and say that it is the duty of the school to discover these 
special aptnesses and train the pupil accordingly, so as to 
insure to each individual the realization of his best gifts and 
thus make him most useful in his society. Dewey expresses 
beautifully the same social desideratum of education when 
he says, "When the school introduces and trains each child 
of society into membership into his own proper little com- 
munity, saturating him with a spirit of service and providing 
him with effective instruments of self-direction, we shall have 
the surest and best guarantee of a larger society which is 
worthy, lovely, and harmonious." 



148 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

But, to train each individual according to nature's in- 
dices, is only an ideal to-day for the elementary school, but 
like all ideals, though incapable of immediate realization, it 
serves to give direction to sincere endeavor. Such an ideal 
can be approached only when there is a perfect articulation 
and coordination between the home and the school. In the 
extremely limited school time, the teacher cannot study the 
child nor make positive plans from a temporary and inade- 
quate knowledge of its nature. In the school the child is 
more or less conventional, restrained, and "on his good be- 
havior." The child is constantly displaying "his company 
manners." At home the same child is natural, his desires 
are expressed, his impulses are often acted out freely. The 
parents thus have the opportunity of studying the child and 
noting nature's tendencies. It is they, not the teacher, upon 
whom the responsibility finally rests. But with the prevail- 
ing ignorance among parents in some sections of our large 
cities, the school can hope for little more than the present 
lack of cooperation and support and the continuation of the 
same injudicious interference. 

Another great obstacle in the path of the realization of 
this hope is the development of our present mass system of 
teaching. Because of the world-wide movement toward con- 
centration of urban population, city education is now a great 
unwieldy system. Classes are large and individual attention 
well-nigh impossible. Mechanical devices and schemes of 
every sort are being introduced to make all pupils work 
simultaneously and similarly. A general standard is adopted 
to which all pupils must measure up. The teacher brings one 
method of instruction, one set of illustrations and questions, 
one mode of presentation for the whole class. Those to whom 
this one point of view does not appeal must fall by the way- 
side. The urgent problem of school management to-day. is 
how to make class teaching consistent with the highest in- 
terests and needs of the individual, so that his personality 
will be given free sway to assert and adjust itself. 

Class teaching based on this modern tendency, which 



Social Content of the Curriculum 149 

neglects the individual's peculiar needs and seeks to substi- 
tute general methods applicable to all, must necessarily plead 
guilty to four serious indictments. First, it is stultifying, not 
invigorating. Instead of encouraging each child to show its 
true self and catering to its individuality, we curb these, and 
repress what is most vital and what should be expressed. 
The school has a common denominator and demands that 
each child reduce itself in terms of it; the problem is in- 
tensely aggravated because it is the least common denomi- 
nator which is usually adopted; the inevitable result is re- 
duction descending. A second indictment therefore follows 
— our education is passive, not active. This is inevitably 
followed by a third, that education becomes imitative rather 
than initiative. Only as we encourage expression of per- 
sonality, cater to each sacred self, allow every child to do 
the task in his own way, do we find the individual assuming 
the role of initiator. Because we teach masses we demand 
one set solution for a type of problem, one method of arrang- 
ing papers, etc. The child may know a shorter process, a 
more convenient arrangement, but the sacred regard for uni- 
formity curbs personal preference and forces an imitation of 
the common standard. True, the child cannot have his way 
in all things. It is part of the school discipline to train in 
the control of the ego ; but in our system of ' ' crowd instruc- 
tion" this control degenerates into repression of individual- 
ity. Education must finally plead guilty of being authori- 
tative rather than self-assertive, opposed to the very nature 
and function of the educative process. 

In the final analysis the present organization does not 
even cater to the needs of the average child, but rather to 
those of a very small minority. In studying the need for 
vocational training it was noted that only five per cent, of 
the elementary school graduates in this country go to the 
secondary schools. We must always keep in the focus of 
our field of vision that vast army of children who leave long 
before the completion of the school course, whose fifth year 
marks the termination of a "liberal" education and ushers 



150 Education as Sociological Adjustment 

them into an industrial life. Despite the realization of this 
disagreeable fact, the traditional organization of education 
persists. In sublime indifference to this realization, ele- 
mentary school curricula are shaped to prepare children for 
the secondary schools; high school courses usually prepare 
for the college. Education is not only a social process, but 
a social function; it must faithfully endeavor to minister to 
the needs of the vast majority whose impulses are thoroughly 
practical and manual rather than speculative and mental. 

In our modern educational systems, the center of gravity 
is too often placed in the curriculum, in the method, in the 
teacher, "but not in the child, in his instincts, and activ- 
ities." For this reason we welcome any plan to teach by 
groups, to form special classes according to ability, gifts, or 
handicaps of the children, to curtail the elementary school 
to six years and reorganize the seventh and eighth years, so 
as to prepare those children who leave school for their spe- 
cialties in business or industry, and the others who continue 
the academic studies for their work in the high school. All 
these are only manifestations showing that "modern educa- 
tional ideals seek to make the child the center of gravity in 
school life" and organization. These are attempts to place 
education in that condition known in physics as stable 
equilibrium. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Courses of Study, Elementary and High School Systems of Leading 

American Cities. 
Bolton. Principles of Education, Chaps. 6 and 7. 
George. The George Junior Republic. 
Eorne. Psychological Principles of Education, Part IV. 
RuEDIGER. Principles of Education, Chap 10. 

'ii. .(/; Ideal School. Chap. 7. 
Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 13. 

McMurry. General Method, Chap., "Illative Worth of Knowledge." 
Spencer. Education, Chap., "What Knowledge Is Most Worth." 
Butler. Meaning of Education, Chap., "What Knowledge Is Most 

Worth. ' ' 



PAET IV 

EDUCATION AS MENTAL ADJUSTMENT 

A. THE INSTINCTIVE ASPECT OF THE MIND 



CHAPTER X 

SELF-ACTIVITY AND MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 

Meaning of Mental Development.— The pivotal point in 
the psychological discussion of education is the answer to the 
question, "How does the mind grow?" But before we at- 
tempt an answer we must understand clearly what is meant 
by mental growth. Education has often been denned as 
mental development. This reflects the true nature of our 
problem. Development means an unfolding of something 
present but not visible to the senses. Mental development 
implies that the mind comes into the world, not a blank, but 
a mass of possibilities that can be brought out. The develop- 
ment must therefore occur from within, not from without. 
The mind grows because the latent powers already within the 
mind become manifest. Education is hence an evolutionary 
and never an involutionary process. 

This is, therefore, a direct contradiction of the old ' ' Blank 
Paper" theory of the mind. The child's mind was regarded 
as a perfect blank at the start of life, ready to receive im- 
pressions from without. The followers of this theory sug- 
gested the analogy of a clean blotter which gradually absorbs 
the markings of writing. Locke, the leading sponsor of this 
theory, holds that the greater the number of impressions and 
facts that is absorbed by any individual, the greater is his 
fund of knowledge, and hence the higher is the intellectual 
development which he attains. This led to a conception of 
education that is known as the "Acquisition Theory." The 
mind was regarded as a void to be filled. Multiplicity of 
facts, not the quality nor the method of their acquisition, was 
the aim in teaching. We often hear a teacher complaining, 
11 153 



154 Education as Mental Adjustment 

"I have filled them with grammar and ye1 they know noth- 
ing." Such a teacher conceives education as an involution- 
ary rather than an evolutionary process. We must remember 
that, strictly speaking, a teacher cannot impart knowledge ; he 
can only occasion it by arousing the proper activity in the 
child's mind. All knowledge is the result of the child's own 
exertions. We ask questions, appeal to the imagination, pre- 
sent objects, etc., in the hopes of arousing this activity in the 
child. But, unless the child responds, all the teacher's ef- 
forts are futile. The teacher who forgets this basic principle, 
but regards the mind as a receptacle to be filled, is usually 
engaged in a ' ' hammering-in ' ' process of dull memoriter drill, 
constantly neglecting appeal to thought. 

The crudity of this view stands out in relief when com- 
pared to its modern successor. To-day we regard the mind as a 
germ, or seed, containing in embryo form every possible activ- 
ity, capable of showing every mental phenomenon, each await- 
ing its proper cue or stimulus to make itself manifest. The 
mind is the source of its own growth. It imprisons in a com- 
pact and concentrated form an infinite amount of potential 
mental energy which, at the proper stimulation, becomes ki- 
netic energy. This pent-up energy, constantly changing into 
power when the proper cue is given, is called self-activity. 
Education is only a continued process of arousing this self- 
activity, of freeing this energy held in check. 

A second theory that we shall not accept is Spencer's and 
Taine's "Mind Stuff Theory." Both these educators pre- 
suppose the existence of a peculiar psychic unit, elementary 
ideas, which they call mind stuff. They argue that, just as 
we divide and subdivide the complex physical brain until we 
come to a single cell, so, too, we can divide and further di- 
vide thoughts and complex ideas until we come to a simple, 
elementary single idea. The more the brain cell is used, the 
larger and more powerful does it become. The more we think 
and reason, the more potent and the richer do our simple 
ideas become. 

Seneca, who wrote ages before Spencer, spoke more wisely. 



Self-activity and Mental Development 155 

He said, "Man's mind is not clay which the educator can 
mold at will, but a plant, having its individual nature and 
form in the seed and capable of being cared for by him as 
a gardener." A seed contains an invisible tree, with its 
massive trunk, spreading branches, and countless leaves. The 
gardener cannot change the nature, nor the form, nor the 
character of the tree. He applies the most satisfactory physi- 
cal conditions, of temperature, moisture, and sunlight, and the 
latent possibilities of the seed emerge. The force which makes 
the seed manifest its capabilities comes from within. It 
is the seed's self-activity which causes it to blossom. So with 
the mind; in the new-born infant are wrapped up all the 
faculties and all the powers that can be developed in the 
course of its life. The force within that stirs these dormant 
possibilities and makes realities out of potentialities is self- 
activity. The answer to our original question, "How does the 
mind grow?" is hence "Through its own activity from within, 
through its own strivings and struggles." 

Education vs. Training. — With this conception of mental 
growth we conclude that man alone can be educated in the 
true sense and in the strict meaning of the term. An ani- 
mal can be trained but never educated. The distinction lies, 
in the main, in three points. 

(1) In education we seek to lead the individual to a 
realization of the worth of things, their ultimate need and use, 
hoping that his action will become self-directed toward a goal 
consciously chosen by him. In the teaching of geography and 
history we are constantly endeavoring to arouse such interest 
in the subjects that the child will read whatever is available 
on the library shelf. In the literature lesson we hope to 
create such an appreciation that the child will take a delight 
in reading, although no assignment is made by the teacher. 
In teaching nature study the aim is not, as we often suppose, 
to fill the child's mind with facts of trees, leaves, stems, roots, 
etc., but rather to inspire a love for nature, an appreciation 
of its beauty, so that even the city child may look up to see 
the splendor of the sky, may voluntarily seek the green fields, 



156 Education as Mental Adjustment 

the flowered meadows, the forest and its birds, all of nature's 
glories. But how different with the animals ! When hungry 
they seek food, when cold and sick they search for shelter. 
The action and the goal are always determined by the pres- 
sure of necessity. Even the circus dog waits for the cue 
from his master and goes through each execution exactly as 
directed. In training we have a goal and its realization de- 
termined for the individual. In education we seek that level 
of life in which the goal is determined by the individual 
himself. 

(2) Education seeks to make each individual self-con- 
scious. It tries to make each child cognizant of the powers 
within itself. For only as we become conscious of the powers 
within us do we become best fitted for our destined life-work. 
Knowing our capabilities we realize that we can accomplish 
bigger and better things, that the horizon of our lives may 
be widened. Or we may see that we are attempting what we 
cannot achieve. The animal that is trained, that has a goal 
forced upon it, is conscious, not of itself, but only of the 
outside world. It is ignorant of itself, the vital factor in 
life, knowing, however, what is external to it. 

(3) A third point of difference is one that is purely psy- 
chological. In training we try to establish such an associa- 
tion of facts in the mind that conclusions are prompted 
mechanically through associative memory or association by 
contiguity. The explanation is simple. Certain facts happen 
to follow one another in time and space. The mind notes the 
sequence and is impressed by it. For example, we repeat 
a, b, c, d, and not b, a, d, c; there is no reason for the order 
except that that is the traditional sequence. We therefore 
train a child to repeat the alphabet. A child tells us glibly 
that "the capital of Maine is Augusta on the Kennebec." 
Here, too, is an association of facts without reason; the nanus 
were seen together on the map or heard repeated by the 
teacher, and the mind of the pupil associated them in thai 
order. A pupil may tell us, in a mechanical way, that the 
"climate of Labrador is characterized by cold, bleak winters, 



Self -activity and Mental Development 157 

and short, mild summers." That, too, is a mechanical fact 
learned by the child without comprehension of cause and 
effect. Such children are trained in geography. 

But, when we try to associate these facts in the mind be- 
cause there is a reason, a basic similarity, a fundamental 
cause, then we have association by similarity, rational associa- 
tion, characteristic of education, not training. Thus, the child 
who is asked the climate of Labrador, and who proceeds to 
examine the map to find its latitude, altitude, prevailing 
winds, distance from the sea, neighboring ocean currents, etc., 
will come to the same conclusion. If he remembers this con- 
clusion it will be due to a rational, a logical association, not 
a mechanical or accidental one. Such a child is educated in 
geography. One teacher puts on the board, "231 cu. in. = 
1 gallon." The children learn the statement because of their 
faith in the teacher's knowledge. They are trained to the fact. 
Another teacher constructs a box 7 x 11 x 3 inches, fills it 
with sand, and empties the contents into a gallon. The chil- 
dren find the volume of the box, 231 cubic inches, and con- 
clude that, since the box of sand filled the gallon measure, a 
gallon contains 231 cubic inches. In this second method the 
children are educated to the fact. In the one case we im- 
pose the fact, in the other we present such conditions and 
questions as will stir the minds of the children to find the 
fact for themselves. Hence, we have training, mechanical as- 
sociation, association by contiguity in the former case, and 
education, association by similarity, by like causes and corre- 
sponding reasons, in the latter; minimum appeal to the 
child's self-activity in the first method, a maximum appeal to 
the mind's activity in the second. 

Conclusions of Self -Activity for Teaching. — Self-activity 
shows itself in many forms of continuous expression; this is 
known in psychology as the "Stream of Consciousness," a 
chain of successive mental states. The doctrine of self-activity 
emphasizes the teacher's need of controlling the stream of 
consciousness. To illustrate : in listening to a talk there 
must be an adjustment of the ear to what is being said, and 



158 Erf /ten f ion as Moil <il Adjustment 

of the eye to what is being shown. Unless we recall our 
past knowledge of the subject, the lecture has no significance, 
— memory is introduced. If we fail to judge, compare, 
analyze, and criticize the subject-matter presented, the 
various points will not become part of us, — reason is nec- 
essary. Thus the intellect, in all its forms, must be oc- 
cupied. But what is said arouses pleasure or displeas- 
ure, — the emotions are hence brought into action. To 
keep our attention riveted, to make the mind concentrate 
and shut out extraneous ideas, will power must be brought 
into play. 

We see, then, that our psychic life is a composite of a 
number of forms of consciousness. At each moment feeling, 
intellect, and will commingle freely. First one predominates, 
then the other. Each subject of study will decide for the 
teacher which of the mind's activities will be made central 
or focal and which marginal. In listening to an illustrated 
talk on Switzerland imagination is focal, reasoning marginal; 
in following a talk on self-activity reasoning is focal and 
imaginatjoD marginal. 

The teacher must, therefore, decide which of the forms 
of mental activity his particular subject demands and then 
try to direct the child's self-activity accordingly, otherwise 
there will be a diffusion of the mind's energy. Thus, if the 
lesson in history happens to be on a battle, the teacher must 
make imagination focal. To accomplish this we do most of 
the talking, give a host of vivid details, and lay special em- 
phasis on the tragic elements. But if the topic happens to 
be the results of the French and Indian War we want thought 
and reason in the focus, but memory and imagination on the 
margin. With this end in view the lesson proceeds with less 
telling and the burden of work is put on the children; the 
whole topic is developed by a series of well-ordered questions. 
It is our common experience that as soon as we start on a 
protracted verbal explanation of effects the pupils are gradu- 
ally lost to us. This is due to the fact that we have allowed 
the stream of consciousness to set in, the activity which is to 



Self-activity and Mental Development 159 

be central and uppermost to slip into an insignificant position 
in the field of consciousness. 

A second great help that this conception of self-activity 
can render the teacher is to reemphasize what we neglect 
through overfaniiliarity, viz., that there can be no true re- 
ception of knowledge without a reaction, no lasting impression 
without a correlative expression. Paradoxical as it may seem, 
it is nevertheless true that the expression will cause the im- 
pression, because then only are we utilizing the self-activity 
and making education evolutionary. No fact becomes part 
of the mind if it is merely admitted and interpreted. The 
mind must be given an opportunity to work it "over" and 
work it ' ' out ' ' as well as " in. " 

A teacher gave an excellent lesson on Burgoyne's Cam- 
paign. The exposition was clear, the steps logical, the se- 
quence gradual and easy, the whole narrative exceedingly in- 
teresting to the children. When the story was over the teacher 
dictated a short summary of the main facts, dates, battles, 
personages, objects, and results of the campaign. The whole 
lesson was an attempt at impression, and the children were 
relatively inactive ; their minds were in a state of passive 
receptivity. The direct instruction being over, one would 
naturally expect the reaction from the children, their expres- 
sion of the impressions. How much better would the lesson 
have been if the teacher had asked the children to write the 
summary, or to make a map of the region and indicate the 
progress of the campaign? Children enjoy the expressional 
side of a lesson as much as the impressions given by the 
teacher. 

The usual excuse for not allowing the children oppor- 
tunity to react upon impressions is lack of time. Granting 
the legitimacy of the excuse under the pressure of the crowded 
curriculum, the teacher might have asked the pupils to think 
of five of the most important points in the lesson. This would 
have necessitated a rapid review of the whole lesson, quick 
decisive judgment of the relative importance of facts, and 
deep thought for the final choice. This opportunity for an 



160 Education as Mental Adjustment 

expression would have done more to deepen the basic ideas 
than the copying of the teacher's outline did. There is no 
time for this active work, but plenty of time to scribble a 
summary, thus completing a whole period in which the chil- 
dren are using a minimum amount of self-activity. In ad- 
dition, this procedure reduces a lesson given orally by the 
teacher, a lesson full of spirit and enthusiasm to a stupid, 
lifeless synopsis of five lines, which is memorized and recited 
the next day. It is our personal experience that, when we 
know a secret which we are enjoined from telling, we feel an 
irresistible craving to tell what we must not, to give expres- 
sion to what should remain an impression. The child expe- 
riences the same longing to tell what was told him, and the 
more interesting the lesson the more urgent is this craving 
for mental reaction. It is safe to become suspicious of the 
efficiency of that teacher whose work in geography and his- 
tory necessitates the dictation of finely worded compact sum- 
maries. 

All the school subjects abound with examples of this need 
to provide exercises which call upon the available self-activity 
of pupils. In studying, the same law holds true. We read 
a paragraph, understand it, follow sentence after sentence, 
until the end is reached. Unless we review it and retrace its 
development the thought in the paragraph will not become 
our permanent possession. James spoke wisely when he said, 
"It is the motor reaction to any impression that will clinch 
it in consciousness"; this is only another and better way of 
saying what we said: we learn only as we put forth our own 
effort and activity. 

Advantages of Requiring a Mental Reaction. — To require 
a mental reaction means to reap three advantages in teaching : 

1. It Makes Knowledge Exact and Precise. — Ideas and 
thoughts are fleeting. "Easy come and easy go" seems to be 
the law. The person who is always absorbing knowledge may 
be mistaken in his comprehension of it. Let him give expres- 
sion to his impression by explaining it to others, by writing 
it out, or by diagramming it, and many imperfections in his 



Self-activity and Mental Development 161 

understanding of the facts appear at once. Here he is not 
quite clear, there he did not foresee a possible exception. 
''"We learn as we teach" is an old adage; it is true because, 
as we attempt to give expression to what we think we know, 
we often realize that our knowledge is imperfect and ill- 
digested. The lecture system of teaching is the poorest 
method yet devised because it allows the student no oppor- 
tunity for mental reaction. 

2. For the Teacher, Expression by the Pupil is a Test 
of His Knowledge. — No teacher can proceed beyond a cer- 
tain point unless she makes sure that all misconceptions are 
eradicated. By constantly requiring pupils to give expres- 
sion to the impressions that we are trying to establish, we as- 
certain the pupils' misconceptions, and remove them before 
continuing the development of the topic. 

3. It Gives the Child a Feeling of Self-reliance. — In re- 
quiring an expression we make a direct appeal to the child's 
ability. The child is thrown on his own resources and must 
work out his own salvation. We not only show the child 
what he can do, but also make him interested in his own 
capabilities. 

Summary. — From the point of view of self-activity, the 
teacher is therefore not the imparter of knowledge but only a 
guide, a director of the energy and activity which the child 
has to offer. His first duty is hence to map out the work. 
The second function of the teacher is to supply the motive, 
to bring all those means and devices to bear which will arouse 
the pupils' activity and call upon the proper mental powers 
in the stream of consciousness. He must decide whether the 
child shall work from a sense of fear, of love, of interest, of 
need, or of desire to win the approbation of his parents, 
teacher, or fellow-mates. 

Laurie tells us, "The child attains knowledge by taking 
it, not receiving it ; he instructs himself. The teacher is only 
a conductor, a cooperator, and a remover of obstacles." Pes- 
talozzi, speaking in the same strain, says, "Education is only 
a continual benevolent superintendence." 



162 Education as Mental Adjustment 

SUGGESTED READING 

Bolton. Principles of Education, pp. 690-704. 
James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chaps. 8 and 11. 
Talks to Teachers, Chaps. 2, 3 and 5. 



CHAPTER XI 

INSTINCTS 

Meaning of Instinct. — The inherent power of the mind 
which makes for its own growth and development, viz., self- 
activity, is continually manifesting itself in various forms. 
Thus we find that every child displays curiosity, an ex- 
pression of self-activity which shows his inborn desire for 
knowledge, which leads him to destroy objects in order to 
better understand the hidden forces at work. He shows a 
spirit of constructiveness which leads him to put things to- 
gether, often to break things apart in the hope of reconstruct- 
ing them. Emulation is another form of the self-activity 
which causes him to exert great effort in order to excel. Love 
of ownership leads him to collect stamps, coins, and various 
objects. Fear, pugnacity, shyness, are some of these addi- 
tional forms of self-activity that we call instincts, inborn 
tendencies to act in such a way "as to produce certain ends 
without foresight of these ends or training in their perform- 
ance. " 

The life of animal forms below the human level is com- 
pletely controlled by instinctive impulse. The beaver builds 
his dam in the same way at stated seasons and under similar 
conditions. Birds begin their migrations as the changing 
seasons come and go, with no force in their lives consciously 
dictating this mode of self-preservation. Insects continue the 
same form of life, the same organization, build the same nests 
in similar locations without special training for these ends. 
The squirrel herds his nuts, the dog buries his food. Each 
blindly provides against future want. The number of in- 
stincts in man is far greater than that in animal life. Chief 

163 



164 Education as Mental Adjustment 

among human instincts we find: sucking, clasping with fin- 
gers or toes, gestures, imitation, emulation, rivalry, leader- 
ship, pugnacity, talking, sympathy, expression in words or in 
deeds, construction, curiosity, fears of all kinds for the un- 
known — for darkness and for elevations — play, shame, jeal- 
ousy, sociability, love — a host that defies detailed enumeration. 

Origin and Cause of Instincts. — What is the cause of this 
persistent, universal craving toward certain ends? "When 
an instinct is aroused we can always foretell its result. A 
child will invariably reach out for a bright light and recoil 
from an object that radiates heat; if we fall we invariably 
clutch at the air; if an uncouth object appears a feeling of 
fright and helplessness ensues. The biologists explain that 
all these instincts reproduce life's activities somewhere in 
the race history. They tell us that man, living in the tree, 
fell very often; he broke his fall by extending his hands 
and clutching at the limbs of the tree. Hence, we clutch at 
the air in falling. Early man seldom ventured out in the 
dark because there was no means of detecting danger lurk- 
ing near; hence we still fear the dark. In very young chil- 
dren we find remarkable mobility of the toes and of the 
front part of the foot. If we place a pencil below the toes 
the foot instinctively attempts to clutch it. This, the biolo- 
gist tells us, is a relic of the dexterity of our toes when the 
trees sheltered us. Jack London, in his "Before Adam," tells 
us that, in all our dreams of falling, we never dream that 
we strike the ground. Why? Because our ancestors who fell 
while asleep always caught themselves and did not complete 
their fall. Those who did not succeed fell to the ground and 
were dashed to pieces. This may be fanciful, but it illus- 
trates the commonly accepted theory that the experiences of 
our ancestors were conserved and handed down to their prog- 
eny. An instinct, then, is an inborn inherited nervous co- 
ordination, an inherited habit of action. 

Nature of Instincts. — All instincts show the same definite 
characteristics in the final analysis. Chief among them we 
must enumerate the following: 



Instincts 165 

1. They Are Reflex Actions. — From its description and 
definition an instinct must be spontaneous; it shows no di- 
rection and no forethought. We receive a certain stimulus 
and the necessary action follows without our conscious in- 
terference. An act which follows immediately without the 
intervention of consciousness is reflex by nature. Instincts, 
hence, come under this head. 

But, psychologically and educationally considered, reflex 
actions are not synonymous with instincts. A reflex is non- 
voluntary, controlled by the lower brain centers, and fol- 
lows as the result of a definite stumulus. Thus the entrance 
of a foreign particle in the eye produces the reflex blink. In 
instinctive actions, on the contrary, the behavior is more 
general, it involves a control and direction of the higher 
brain centers, and follows from stimulations that are internal 
as well as external. An analysis and comparison of such 
reflexes as blinking, or sneezing, with any instinctive action 
in our preceding list, will not only illustrate these differences 
but will also serve to show definitely that a fine line of de- 
marcation is impossible. Herbert Spencer insists, therefore, 
on defining instinctive activity as "compound reflex action." 

2. They are not Individual Peculiarities, but Are Char- 
acteristic of an Entire Class. — At a given age all children that 
are normal may be expected to manifest the same instinc- 
tive acts and desires. For this reason a knowledge of human 
instincts is exceedingly helpful to the teacher. Knowing 
the instinctive life of one child we can, with a high de- 
gree of safety, plan for governing the instinctive im- 
pulses of all. 

3. Another common characteristic of instincts is that 
there is never conscious forethought of a useful end. Com- 
mon sense almost rebels at such a conclusion. Instincts un- 
doubtedly give better control of environment. "Have they, 
therefore, no conscious useful aim?" Science shows clearly 
that such is undoubtedly their true characteristic. A dog 
living in plenty will continue to hide bones; entering a dark 
room continues to frighten us, despite our assurance of com- 



166 Education as Mental Adjustment 

plete safety. Certain birds sit on china eggs and guard them 
zealously, bestowing maternal devotion upon the artificial sub- 
stitute. These instances show clearly that there is no fore- 
sight of a useful end. 

4. All Instincts Aim at the Perpetuation of the Race 
and the Promotion of Its Welfare. — An instinct leads us to 
avoid what is injurious, to neglect courses that are inevitably 
detrimental to our well being. The dog instinctively shuns 
food that will make him sick. The instinct to appropriate 
things, to lie, to deceive, etc., are bad morally but not bio- 
logically because, in an animal or savage society, the cunning 
and crafty will survive as surely as the mighty. So strong 
is the characteristic of self-preservation that every other in- 
stinct may often become subservient to it. Thus, the story 
is told by Kirkpatrick of a woman who began wading into 
a stream in an attempt to commit suicide. She was made to 
retreat when a gun was pointed at her with the threat that 
she would be shot unless she returned to shore. Instincts 
of bullying, pugnacity, jealousy may be undesirable from 
our modern ethical point of view, but they are none the less 
biologically good. They promote physical safety and well 
being. 

Education of Instincts. — For these reasons the old con- 
ception of instincts regarded them as characteristic of the 
lower animals and made them the cause of all low and vicious 
acts of mankind. Modern education recognizes that instincts 
characterize all forms of life, especially of man, whose fund 
of instincts is far greater than that of any other animal. 
But, since the existence of the lower forms depends almost 
exclusively on instinctive actions, their instincts are more 
definite and more assertive, whereas in man they have been 
modified by reason, environment, acquired habits, and edu- 
cational influences. They are nevertheless positive and po- 
tent forces, too deep-rooted to be neglected or suppressed 
at will. The problem of education is one of organization 
rather than repression of instincts; it tries to do this in one 
of three ways. 



Instincts 167 

1. Through Disuse. — It is a biological fact that instincts 
may atrophy and finally become extinct, leaving hardly any 
trace of their former power through a process of disuse. A 
duck kept on dry land and denied all opportunity to swim 
will, if immersed in water for the first time, scramble out 
as fast as possible. The savageness of the dog, the cat, and 
of other domesticated animals is lost through life with man 
and an environment which makes it an undesirable asset. 
We can employ this same method in education. This is the 
teachers' or parents' means of combatting an instinct. They 
try to prevent the occurrence of those circumstances which 
will allow the expression of the instinct in question. Thus 
the child whose instinct to be cruel leads him to torment a dog 
should not be given a dog; if he has the habit of taking 
things that do not belong to him, do not leave things about. 
"We can predict, with a fair degree of certainty, definite in- 
stincts in a child ; hence we must guard against thrusting the 
child into such positions as are likely to call up these instincts. 
The teacher who entrusts her keys to the desk and supply 
closet to a boy, is not doing what is fair and just to the child. 
A pad, a ruler, a compass, are part of a boy 's cherished treas- 
ures. He takes these freely despite his excellent conduct in 
other situations. To leave a purse or a watch on a desk or 
in an open drawer with a class of poor children is almost 
immoral, for we are arousing the very impulses that we are 
trying to suppress and weaken. After an examination in 
arithmetic we note an unusual tendency to talk. The chil- 
dren have their answers on slips of paper, and, in their anx- 
iety to compare results, they cannot contain themselves. As 
soon as the teacher turns her back sly whispering and ex- 
changing of papers occur. It is therefore advisable to give 
the children a whispering period after an examination. The 
tendency to whisper is removed, the disciplinary problem 
eliminated, and the child is spared from doing surreptitiously 
what he can do openly. But merely not using an instinct does 
not guarantee that it will die out. Merely imprisoning a per- 
son with criminal impulses gives no assurance that the in- 



168 Education as Mental Adjustment 

stinct will be curbed. It may break out with redoubled vigor 
when an opportunity finally presents itself. 

2. Punishment is another means of controlling instincts; 
but it is likewise limited in efficiency. If the instinct is weak 
and the child meek and afraid of pain or displeasure, this 
method may discourage the impulse in question. But, usually, 
writing five hundred times "I must not tell a falsehood" will 
not cure the instinct to lie or to exaggerate; nor will a box 
on the ear be an effective remedy for this failing. When 
the punishment suffered is a direct and natural consequence 
of the child's act, the child associates the offense with the 
punishment; when the temptation arises in the future the 
inevitable consequences leap up in the mind and the child 
may desist. Punishment as a means of curbing instincts 
should be used only when it leads to such an association, be- 
cause then the impulse to refrain comes from within. In 
such a case punishment is even better than the first method, 
that of disuse. 

3. The truly educative means of curbing and controlling 
instincts is by guidance along proper lines and substituting 
worthy for unworthy motives. This method realizes that 
repression is not only bad but even impossible in most cases. 
An instinct is an inborn impulse with all the force of in- 
numerable ages. It is too powerful and permanent an ele- 
ment in conduct to be obliterated. The instinctive tendency 
must therefore be retained, but it must be so guided and di- 
rected that it will express itself for ends that are reasonable 
and desirable. 

A few practical applications may make evident the educa- 
tional merits of this means of guiding instincts. If a child 
is quick-tempered, all punishment for showing anger is use- 
less. Attempts to keep from crossing him and arousing his 
displeasure are not always possible. Let such a child's tem- 
per be aroused at a mean act. To show one's temper in such 
cases is almost a virtue. After this legitimate anger has ex- 
pended itself, reason with the child and show the difference 
between justifiable and unjustifiable anger. If a child is 



Instincts 169 

destructive, we may utilize such an instinct in the labora- 
tory, in the study of flowers, in an analysis which teaches 
what is useful. The destruetiveness of youth is only a form 
of the instinct of curiosity. 

The collecting instinct is often so strong in children that 
it is almost a mania. What boy's pockets are not filled with 
materials ranging from mere playthings to cord, nails, bits 
of wire, rubber bands, and buttons; Tom Sawyer's collection 
included a dead mouse. Librarians will testify that children 
are constantly copying names and addresses from the pages 
of advertisements in the magazines, and sending postals to 
those that offer a pad, a ruler, a small notebook free of charge. 
In each case the article is not worth the postal, but the child 
feels that the pleasure of satisfying an instinctive craving 
justifies the outlay. The teacher can utilize this instinct by 
starting a class-room museum and enlisting the children's 
interest in collecting samples of the flowers, leaves, stems, 
minerals, etc., that are studied. Excellent class-room bulle- 
tins in geography and history are maintained by setting the 
children at work looking for and collecting pictures and 
articles that correlate with the grade work. Teachers who 
have not tried sending boys to the offices of the various rail- 
road and steamship lines and traveling agencies have lost ex- 
cellent maps, pictures, and illustrations of countries and peo- 
ple taught in the grade work that are far better than those in 
the geographies. 

Many children often experience the promptings of a 

strong migratory impulse. The teacher of a lad in one of our 

city schools, who suffered from so strong a craving of this 

nature that it led him to play truant, effected a permanent 

cure by sending him to places of historic and commercial 

interest after school hours and on Saturday and Sunday. To 

lend these visits an air of seriousness she required the boy 

to bring in a report of his observations. In all these cases we 

have instincts which teachers commonly regard as undesirable 

so utilized that they become worthy motives for desirable 

ends. 

12 



170 Educal ion as Mental Adjustment 

Classification of Instincts. — The instincts that we discussed, 
numerous and diversified though they may be, lend them- 
selves to a more or less systematic classification. Every in- 
dividual shows the influence of four groups of instincts: 
(1) of Mental Activity — these include curiosity, imitation, 
and interest; (2) of Physical Activity, as exemplified by con- 
struct! veness, manipulation, play, and effort; (3) of Social 
Activity, of which parental love, sociability, kindness, sym- 
pathy, a desire to communicate what we feel or know, are 
illustrations; and (4) of Individual Activity, as manifested 
by emulation, rivalry, ownership, and pugnacity. 

Varying Persistency of Instincts. — Under these four heads 
we group a list of instincts that cannot be enumerated in 
our limited study. But we must not erroneously suppose 
that these are ever-present. Very often instincts are not 
present for more than a definite part of a lifetime. Thus, 
some instincts which are very strong in youth — like curiosity, 
pugnacity, and play — weaken considerably as we grow older. 
Others do not make their appearance until a late date. Thus, 
parental love, care of personal appearance, develop after the 
period of youth. "We have great difficulty in getting a young 
child to think of his person, of his clothes and appearance, 
but the high-school teacher often finds a tendency on the 
part of his pupils to overdress. The modesty and reserve 
which may be overdeveloped to a fault in preadolescence may 
become greatly minimized in the same child after adoles- 
cence. Instincts may, therefore, be characteristic of a par- 
ticular age, and not run parallel with life. This does not 
mean that these instincts are weaker. Very often a tem- 
porary instinct is even more powerful and intense while it 
lasts than one that stays from birth to death. 

It must also be remembered that instincts are constantly 
being modified through the influence of environment, edu- 
cation, and human reason. As the environment changes, our 
whole nervous organizations remodel themselves to new con- 
ditions. Old tendencies die out. The pugnacity, the thiev- 
ery, the treachery and murder, of savage hearts have all 



Instincts 171 

been curbed until not more than a vestige of their former 
strength is left. The new living conditions do not call 
for these, but for other impulses that mean better control 
of the new environment. We have seen the means that edu- 
cation employs to curb and modify undesirable instincts. 
It also strives to lift us to the highest mental level by placing 
reason in the ascendancy. As life progresses and the influ- 
ence of education becomes more potent, reason, not instinct, 
must become the guide in life. Instincts may prompt a nec- 
essary activity that ministers to the well being of an indi- 
vidual, but it must be reason that will select the best means 
of attaining a conscious goal. Without reason where would 
the instinct of curiosity lead us? The migratory instinct 
impels us to roam about and learn our environment. With- 
out the light of reason how dark would our journey be! In- 
stincts are the guide posts to the teacher. They determine 
the line of march, the point of attack, and the time for 
retreat. 

Conclusion. — We see, then, that we are controlled to a 
great extent by our instinctive tendencies. Like ideals in 
education, instincts determine the direction of our aims and 
activities. The stock phrases in education concerning in- 
stincts are as numerous as they are stupid. Many tell us to 
be guided absolutely by our instincts — "follow them," "give 
them complete rein." These Rousseauites forget that such 
a course is impossible and exceedingly dangerous. Although 
biologically good, instincts are ethically lacking when judged 
in the light of our present moral life. "Curb all instincts" 
is a contrary suggestion, but we know how futile such an 
attempt must be. What shall we do? The only course that 
is left to take is the intermediary, viz., make education a 
process of mental and moral nurture based on the child's 
mental and moral nature. Education must be regarded as a 
process in which we try to inculcate mental and moral stand 
ards through an appeal to the child's natural yearnings and 
impulses. With such an object in view, education would 
constantly strive to attain the best adjustment to the environ- 



172 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ruent, with, not against, the child. Every pupil would be an 
active eooperator in the educational process. How can this 
be achieved? The later study in the instinctive aspect of 
education may tell us. 

SUGGESTED BEADING 

Angell. Psychology, Chaps. 15 and 16. 

Baldwin. Development and Evolution, Chaps. 5 and 6. 

Mental Development, Chap. 6. 
Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 8. 
Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 23. 
James. Talks to Teachers, Chaps. 6 and 7. 

Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 25. 
Jordan and Kellog. Evolution and Animal Life, Chap. 20. 
Kirkpatrick. Fundamentals of Child Study. 
Miller. Psychology of Thinking, Chap. 7. 
Oppenheim. Mental Growth and Control, Chap. 5. 
Bibot. Heredity, Part I, Chap. 1. 
Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 3. 



CHAPTER XII 

IMITATION AND EMULATION 

The importance of instincts in educational endeavor makes 
necessary a further study of the predominating ones that 
the teacher encounters in class-room teaching and discipline. 
The first of these is imitation, as abused and censured by 
some, as it is praised and overemphasized by others. How 
prominent a place shall imitation occupy in education? 
What reasons have we for giving it the position that is so 
often accorded to it? How shall we utilize it in our educa- 
tive processes? The problems of imitation in education must 
therefore be our immediate concern. 

Origin of Imitation: Its Psychological Basis. — "The child 
is an imitative creature" is a common expression reflecting 
the fact that even to the lay mind imitation is an instinct. 
Psychologically, we explain imitation by Baldwin's Law of 
Dynamogenesis, "An idea or a concept always tends to 
work itself out in action," or, to quote James, "All conscious- 
ness is motor." When the mind is possessed of an idea we 
experience an innate, irresistible craving to express it. If 
we conceive a new process the tendency is to diagram it. 
Feelings of joy and sorrow give evidence of their existence 
by working themselves out on the face. Fear causes a change 
in the heart, lungs, and skin. All consciousness tends to take 
on a physical as well as a mental aspect. Whenever, there- 
fore, we become conscious of an act or a thought of others, 
we instinctively imitate it in our unconscious endeavor to 
work this thought out in action. In addition to this psycho- 
logical explanation, there is also a purely physiological basis 
that is worthy of note. Every vital nerve tissue possesses 
two basic properties, (1) excitability, or irritability, and 

173 



174 Education as Mental Adjust matt 

(2) contract;! bililv. Hence, we have the familiar statement, 
"Every nerve cell is both sensory and motor." . . . 
"Hence, when a sense organ is stimulated, nerve tissues are 
affected, energy is liberated, and motor, i. e., muscular reac- 
tions, tend to take place." 

Imitation explains, therefore, the tremendous importance 
of environment as an educative and molding influence. It 
also indicates clearly and unmistakably the social function 
of each individual in society, the responsibility that each one 
of us must bear, for each member of society helps make the 
environment for all the others. Everything that we do in the 
normal discharge of our daily routine lias its social con- 
sequences when judged as a means of stimulating imitation 
by others. Education shows us how truly "each man is his 
brother's keeper," unconsciously shaping the destinies of 
his fellow-men. 

Nature and Definitions of Imitation. — From this general 
view of the function of imitation we conclude that it is the 
innate tendency to reproduce the actions and ideas of others. 
Gordy defines it as the "tendency to do, to think, and to feel 
what those with whom we have associated are doing, think- 
ing, and reeling." But, since we become possessed of thoughts 
of others unconsciously as well as consciously, imitation may, 
therefore, be an unconscious process. When our lives are 
molded by our friends we have an example of the uncon- 
scious imitation. AVe frequently trace a marked change in 
our conceptions of art, of science, in our taste, our hopes and 
ambitions, in our very attitude toward life, to the very subtle 
and keen influences of an associate or a teacher. Here we 
have the deepest and most far-reaching effect of imitation, 
but imitation that is usually unconscious. 

We may, therefore, conceive three important groups of 
imitation: The first is the conscious, or intentional, imita- 
tion that Baldwin calls ideo-motror-suggestion, in which we 
realize the worth of a model and proceed to make it our pat- 
tern. A consciousness of a high regard for any person, any 
action, any motive, usually guarantees a deliberate attempt at 



Imitation and Emulation 175 

imitation. The second kind of imitative action is the uncon- 
scious imitation which Baldwin designates by the compound 
term of sensori-motor-suggestion ; this form of imitation shows 
clearly the absence of a definite conscious idea in the mind 
after which we try to pattern ourselves. A third class is auto- 
imitation. From its very name we see that it includes those 
actions that we ourselves originate and which we make a 
model for imitation. We have often heard an infant acci- 
dentally utter a sound like "da-da," and keep repeating it 
with great pleasure until attention is diverted. By chance 
we discover that a pain is experienced when a foreign body 
touches a sensitive spot in a tooth. Few have enough will 
power to keep from irritating the tooth by a pressure of the 
tongue. A particular melody, or picture, or idea seems to 
leap into the mind. We are almost driven to madness in 
our attempt to keep from repeating this sound, or image, or 
thought. It is manifest, therefore, that we may be the makers 
of our own patterns for imitation. 

Another characteristic that we must also note is that we 
generally imitate those in the same class or species. Unless 
Ave regard a person as at least our equal he can have no in- 
fluence in molding our personalities. Kirkpatrick, therefore, 
defines imitation as the "tendency to repeat what has been 
perceived in others of the same species." He argues, "Imi- 
tation may be regarded as a specialization of the social in- 
stinct, that renders an individual sensitive to what compan- 
ions do, to such an extent that their movements serve as 
stimulations to make similar movements." 

A differentiating feature of imitation is that the instinct 
is often so modified that it becomes more than a mere blind 
impulse. Children indulge in it very often because of the 
intense delight which it brings to them. An intelligent child 
welcomes every opportunity for imitation because it has 
powers, capabilities, capacities craving for use and rational 
employment. Imitation is the safety valve that enables this 
eager energy to be drained off in the happiest form. Coolcy, 
in his "Human Nature and the Social Order," tells us, "The 



176 Education as Mental Adjustment 

child needy to do things and imitation gives him things 
to do." 

As a final point in our estimate of the educative force 
of imitation we must note that its normal impulse in no way 
indicates inferior mentality; we must make this observation 
very emphatic. Imitation is a fruitful force in education, for 
it leads to acquisition of life's necessary activities. Class- 
room experience gives repeated evidence of the fact that the 
bright child is quick at imitation, accurate at performing a 
task in the manner explained and prescribed; the dullard, on 
the contrary, is slow and unreliable in his imitations. Royce 
maintains that "only the imitative animal can become ra- 
tional." Bolton goes a step further in expressing this view, 
for he holds, "we are wholly justified in saying that the 
more imitative the individual, the more educable." We 
must be careful not to read too much into the citation, for the 
author does not say "the more educated" but "the more 
educable"; the more imitative we are, the more opportunities 
we have for greater education ; the possession of added pow- 
ers is not guaranteed by imitation, for opportunities are not 
always realized and possibilities are not always actualized. 

The Function of Imitation in Education. 

I. As a Socializing Agent. — The modern tendency in ed- 
ucation makes imitation a potent factor. This is due to the 
fact that it is a socializing agent. Imitation is a means of 
acquiring the race's practical experience without the toil 
and effort of the discoverer. We learn the necessary activi- 
ties of life like walking, talking, eating, by imitating our 
elders. Our social instinct, prompted by the imitative im- 
pulse, leads us to appropriate the ways and customs of so- 
ciety just as soon as we are conscious of them. In adjusting 
ourselves to the environment we copy all that is essential in 
it. Imitation thus gives us a common basis of language, cus- 
toms, and ideals, produces a social homogeneity which makes 
community life possible. Imitation is hence a social bond, 
a means of becoming initiated into society. Without imita- 
tion there could be no social sympathy within a group. Imi- 



Imitation and Emulation 111 

tation often forces a repression of the individuating nature in 
an attempt to socialize. In this way it guarantees a saving of 
mental and physical energy. Who can estimate the cost of 
rediscovering what is necessary to our welfare instead of 
copying the best that has survived ! Imitation thus makes the 
adjustment to the environment come sooner than otherwise, 
and reduces the educational period of infancy considerably, 
for it "tends to emancipate the child from the influence of 
heredity and self-regarding impulses and bring him under 
the influence of those around him." 

It is a very common view among laymen that imitation 
has little influence in the development of the adult, whose 
psychic life is characterized by rationality and volitional 
guidance. But, upon closer scrutiny of the problem, we come 
to a conclusion wholly different, as a bird's-eye view of hu- 
man progress will readily show. 

In studying history, literature, education, or any phase 
of human civilization, we speak of periods and ages, the 
Renaissance, the Reformation, the Elizabethan, and the like. 
In each we find similar tastes, similar aims and ideals of life, 
similar aspects of the social problem. Each epoch has its 
own "Zeitgeist," its own spirit of the age. If it is not by 
means of an "age," then it is through "schools" that we 
study the progress of culture. In art we have the Roman- 
esque or the Gothic Periods ; the Barbizon or the Impression- 
istic School ; in literature we have the Romanticists, the Deca- 
dents, the Moralists. Why this uniformity? The sociologist 
explains that this is caused by unconscious imitation on a 
grand scale. "Art has developed by slowly accumulating imi- 
tative accretions." All phases of life show the influences 
of this social imitation. In every panic in this country we 
find a feeling of overconfidence preceding the coup ; then a 
local movement occurs which undermines the general confi- 
dence. One person copies the attitude and feelings of an- 
other until a whole country is affected. A national hysteria 
possesses and overclouds the dictates of reason. 

Each epoch brings its own craze. During the Crusades 



178 Education as Mental Adjustment 

everybody felt a mad desire to join the moving forces to the 
Holy Land. Had we lived then we would have been filled 
with their insane enthusiasm. Had we been citizens of New 
England in Colonial days we, too, would have been afflicted 
with the witchcraft madness and had the blood of the inno- 
cent on our hands. Authentic reports tell us that the Span- 
ish-American war could have been averted, but the statesmen 
in control dared not cross public opinion; everybody de- 
manded Spanish blood. How fast we proclaim the hero, how 
intense the enthusiasm that runs riot, but how quickly do we 
snatch the crown that we offered! Sidis thinks that most 
people are usually, in a semihypnotic trance, for "men think 
in crowds and go mad in herds." 

Gabriel Tarde, in his remarkable treatise, "The Laws 
of Imitation," explains the existence of the whole of so- 
ciety by the principles of imitation and invention. Imita- 
tion conserves the old in society, invention adapts the old 
to new needs and changing conditions. James calls imita- 
tion and invention "the two legs on which the human race, 
historically, has walked." Tarde says, "All the actions of 
man in society, from the satisfaction of simple organic needs 
to the inventions of science and art, are the outcome of imi- 
tation." Leibnitz realized the potency of imitation as a so- 
cial force, for he tells us, "The boy or girl is a social monad, 
a little world which reflects the whole system of influences 
coming to stir its sensibilities." 

II. As an Intellectual Agent. — Let us apply the imita- 
tive activity to the class room directly. Generally speaking, 
a child imitates those things that have an interest for him; 
good or bad, just or unjust, are no factors in his choice. A 
child will usually copy the vices and (lie pranks of those 
about him rather than the lessons of industry and sincerity, 
because the former have a greater interest for him. Just as 
in thi' course of our physical development we pass through 
a number of stages, each reflecting some lower form, so, 
(mo, in our mental development, we pass through a series of 
steps whose interests, desires, and impulses are allied with 



Imitation and Emulation 179 

those of savage society and of animal forms. Mentally an J 
morally the child is still a savage. Since a lower stratum of 
society approximates more closely the stage of the child's 
mentality, his natural tendency is to imitate the poorer 
rather than the better elements of his environment, for there 
his interests lie. The teacher's problem, as far as imitation 
is concerned, is twofold, (1) to offer such models as are 
worthy of imitation, and (2) to lead the child to center his 
interests in things better and nobler. Let us consider these 
separately. 

(1) The Child and the Model. — The first of these prob- 
lems is receiving much attention in the schools to-day by the 
prevalence of teaching and disciplining through models. An 
attempt is made to supply pleasant and aesthetic surroundings, 
which have their deep and subtle influence upon the plastic 
child mind. It is the hope of the teacher that the child 
will consciously try to reproduce the air of refinement of the 
well-kept and decorated class room in its home if the child's 
station in life should make it necessary. Children in the 
heart of the tenement district can be seen planting in boxes 
on ledges of windows that face into dark and ill-smelling 
airshafts, or caring for a fish in an improvised aquarium; 
they give evidence in varied forms of the deep impression 
which proper environment makes upon their impression istic 
minds. 

The teaching of many elementary subjects is based ab- 
solutely on imitation. No better illustration can be suggest d 
than language work. To write or speak well means to ap- 
proach with greatest proximity the standards set by the 
writers of the first order. The more we study and imitate 
them, the greater is our mastery of the language. Composi- 
tion is hence taught pedagogically when the "model" is used. 
Many school authorities fear that composition work through 
models tends to repress the child's natural expression, and, 
as a result of the conscious imitation, the child produces a 
stilted, lifeless effect. Hence, they argue, always present 
the model after the composition is written, for a comparative 



180 Education as Mental Adjustment 

study rather than for imitation. There is undoubtedly some 
truth in the position, but it overstates the case. Class teach- 
ers can safely vouch for the efficiency of the model. It shows 
the child the mode of treatiueut and development. It supplies 
the necessary words, good phrases, and model sentences. 
Given a kindred topic after studying the model, the child can 
find its bearings and work out its own salvation. The 
teacher can always introduce enough changes in the assigned 
topic to give each child an opportunity to display his origi- 
nality and personality. 

Only in the lowest grades should the model be reproduced 
faithfully. As soon as possible we must allow for personal 
change by the children. But it is safe to say that, in all 
classes below the sixth year, the model should precede the 
composition. The children's command of language is not 
sufficient for unaided composition work. But, in classes 
above the sixth year, the model may follow the composition 
when the topic is a simple narrative or a biographical sketch. 
In these cases we may allow the child to produce a composi- 
tion which is the result of his own language accomplishment 
and then use the model for purposes of comparison and cor- 
rection. But, in description, exposition, and the more diffi- 
cult forms of writing, the model should be studied before 
and not after the child's composition. Our work in compo- 
sition is better to-day than it has ever been in the public 
schools. There is a general unanimity of opinion that this 
change is due to the emphasis on careful study of the lan- 
guage model. 

We are fully alive to the needs of basing our written 
work on imitation, but we frequently do not realize the im- 
portance of teaching oral English on the same principle. In 
the reading lessons we do not read enough to our children, 
we do not set a sufficient number of models of oral expression 
before the class. Many teachers have no hesitation in calling 
upon a poor reader, a child with some impediment or foreign 
defect in his speech, to render a given selection before the 
class. His mispronunciations are heard by his classmates, 



Imitation and Emulation 181 

and, though the teacher corrects each one of them when the 
child has completed the recitation, the chances are very 
strong that other pupils will carry away the incorrect rather 
than the correct pronunciation. A child who has never met 
a particular word hears two pronunciations : the incorrect 
one from his classmate and the correct one from his teacher; 
to him they are equally correct. The fact that the teacher has 
indicated the proper one is no guarantee that the pupil will 
remember this one and forget the other. Teachers must take 
every precaution to keep wrong pronunciations from reach- 
ing the ears of their pupils. To minimize the occurrence of 
those situations where the child recalls two pronunciations 
and wonders which is right and which is wrong, which is the 
teacher's and which his classmate's, teachers must read a 
given selection before calling upon a child deficient in oral 
reading. To read after such a child mutilates a paragraph 
or stanza, is too late, for the mischief is already done. We 
learn to write and to speak as we learn to swim — by watching 
and imitating. Hence, the place of the model in writing and 
reading is before and not after the pupils' efforts, with chil- 
dren whose abilities in language are very limited. 

(2) Interest in Good Models. — Our initial statement 
was that children imitate only those things in which they find 
an interest. The second duty of the teacher is hence to 
select models that are not only good but interesting, for 
the ultimate aim is to arouse a desire for the good as well as 
for the interesting. This general question we shall consider 
in our discussion of the doctrine of interest, but, in passing, 
we may note that the models selected must be such as are 
part of the child's life, their themes must deal with his ac- 
tivities, his games, his interests, his instincts, his environ- 
ment. If the models that we select in drawing, literature, 
and composition reflect what is vital in the child's life, they 
will be imitated with spirit and an element of originality will 
be manifested. But, if the model is not interesting, imitation 
is mechanical and lifeless, a dead reproduction, a transcrip- 
tion of words and ideas without zest or spirit. 



182 Education as Mental Adjustma' 

Mental Result of Imitation. — Aside from formal lessons, 
imitation has a very important educational function. As the 
child begins to imitate others, to realize the full significance 
and the moaning of these ads, there dawns upon him a con- 
sciousness of an outside world which we call the non-ego, the 
not-self, because it is outside of the ego. But simultaneously 
with this conception of the non-ego there must necessarily 
arise the conception of the ego, the self. The moment we 
are conscious that we are imitating people not ourselves, we 
are conscious of the self. One contains the other. Baldwin, 
therefore, asserts that the "ego" and the "alter," the "I" 
and the "you," are born at the same time, for the conscious- 
ness of the latter necessitates the conception of the former. 
To quote him, "My sense of myself grows by imitation of 
you, and my sense of yourself grows in terms of my sense 
of myself." 

Reducing this abstract psychology to practical needs, it 
becomes: in imitating others we become conscious of our- 
selves. In leading a child to imitate some worthy model 
of character, in real life or in literature, we tend to make 
him conscious of his own powers. Those acts and achieve- 
ments that the child considered above him he clearly perceives 
to be such as he can do. Stratton adds, "The child's own 
strength and skill and versatility are not only cultivated hut 
are revealed to himself. Imitation, then, where we slavishly 
copy the ideas of those near us, is all the while teaching us 
our own capacity." Imitation, hence, acquaints each indi- 
vidual with his own capabilities, and suggests achievements 
that are within the scope of his abilities. 

III. As a Character A<j<iil. — Imitation has a place in 
educational practice not only because it is a socializing and 
."ii intellectual agent, hut because of its character influence. 
Educators urge thai imitation influences character because 
in a peculiar sense ii makes Tor initiative and morality. Le1 
us turn to each of these two possibilities. 

Imitation and Initiative. — Home argues. "Through bring- 
ing us to consciousness of ourselves, imitation makes our orig- 



Imitation and Emulation 183 

inality possible." At first thought it seems paradoxical to 
associate these two terms, as their very natures seem to be 
diametrically opposed. To originate and to initiate both 
mean to lead; to imitate means to follow. That this is not 
necessarily so, is Home's position. Let us examine the imi- 
tative power of childhood when it is most active. At any 
moment there are numberless activities about us, each worthy 
of imitation, each leading to its own desirable end. One in- 
dividual imitates some of these and neglects the others, an- 
other chooses what his friend neglected and neglects the very 
ones that appealed most strongly to the first. In teaching 
design we offer a dozen different combinations to the class; 
each one of these will be chosen and imitated by its respec- 
tive sponsors. In this choice there is an expression of orig- 
inality, of personal preference, of initiation. 

Then, again, no imitation is an exact reproduction. Each 
imitator impresses his own peculiar taste and personality 
on the replica. What child does exactly as he is told? De- 
tails, unimportant to us, appear of momentous weight to an- 
other w r ho is copying our work. As a concrete illustration 
we recall how we often blame a child for not carrying out 
an order exactly as we gave it. We show the child how to 
arrange his paper, where to rule the lines, how far to meas- 
ure, where to place his answer, etc. To our disappointment 
the child changes some of the details. We know that it is 
not intentional disobedience. In searching for the cause we 
lay it at the door of inattention or carelessness. While these 
charges are often true, the real cause is to be found in the 
child's interpretation or misinterpretation of the relative im- 
portance of the details. The child's personality, tastes, and 
desires color the instructions, and we get, not an exact, but 
a personal imitation. We can see the same results if five 
successive persons relate the same incident. How changed 
is the story of the fifth from that told by the first, in spite 
of all efforts to render an exact reproduction. Incidents that 
are meaningless to one person are fraught with intelligence 
and suggestion to another. Each individual brings all his 



184 Education as Mental Adjustment 

past experience to bear on what he is about to imitate. The 
act to be modeled is thus interpreted in terms of the past. 
Since no two individuals have had the- same past life, no two 
imitations can be exactly alike. We do not, therefore, create 
an exact reproduction, for, though the process is an imita- 
tive one, each individual views it in terms of his past self and 
recreates the model in his own image. Therefore, it is con- 
cluded, imitation develops originality. 

While the illustration is true to life, we can hardly agree 
with Home that "imitation is the mere schoolmaster that 
brings us to originality." The fact that we do not imi- 
tate all things, but make a choice, only argues that, with 
our limited time and capabilities, we select only those things 
for reproduction which have most meaning and use for us. 
It does not show originality nor does it make initiators of 
imitators. The fact that we imitate each in terms of our- 
selves is also not a proof of the position which makes imita- 
tion the schoolmaster of originality. It simply argues that 
we are slaves of our past lives, that conscious imitation will, 
therefore, not give an overexact replica, but it does not prove 
that imitation leads to the expression of originality. It is a 
dangerous doctrine to introduce in teaching; for, feeling sure 
that imitation is the "mere schoolmaster" which will bring 
us to initiation, our work may become too imitative and 
may tend to kill thought and thoroughly mechanize our 
methods of instruction. 

Imitation and Morality. — But few, if any, will deny that 
our ethical ideals and moral standards are gained through 
imitation. Morality is based upon the recognition of the 
sanctity of the rights of others. This recognition crystallizes 
itself into definite formulae of conduct which become basic 
in social life. The child is born into a society already pos- 
sessed of these ideals. From his very earliest years he is 
taught to imitate these. The child's moral conception of right 
and just ice conies from those about him. His parents and 
teachers are constantly urging that he imitate these, and that 
he mold his life in harmony with them. He therefore tries 



Imitation and Emulation 185 

to live, as nearly as he can, in the socially approved fashion 
by imitating it. 

From this point of view, morality as an imitative result, — 
biographical studies in history, and character development in 
literature, become of vast importance. It is well-nigh impos- 
sible to set up an abstract principle of conduct or a virtue, 
and ask the child to follow it as its model. In the life of 
the personages of history and literature the child finds the 
living embodiment of all that is noble and lofty. Morality, 
when reflected in a person, becomes concrete for the children. 
Hence, they set up their idols : Hiawatha stands for bravery, 
Evangeline for patience and sacrifice, Robinson Crusoe for 
perseverance, Brutus for unselfishness. The child, young and 
immature, feels, even if he does not fully understand, the 
greatness of the characters; they therefore supply him with 
thoughts, actions, and motives which he imitates and which 
have the subtle unconscious influence that we discussed earlier 
in the chapter. 

For this same reason, too, the teacher is a very vital moral 
force in the class-room. Educational platitudes that con- 
stantly assail our ears tell us that the teacher is the apotheosis 
of the ideals and inspirations of the child, the model con- 
stantly being imitated, that consciously or unconsciously the 
teacher is the molder of the character of mankind, that there- 
fore society's most sacred duty lies in the selection of the 
proper teachers to guide the destinies of the young. But too 
often the teacher occupies a position not quite so lofty in the 
minds of the children. They come to us with ideals of char- 
acter gained at home, from their literature, or religion — 
ideals so lofty as to be impossible in common mortals living 
in this workaday world. To these ideals the child expects us 
to measure up. This may explain the keen disappointment 
the average child experiences when he finds his teacher heir 
to the same weaknesses as his parents. 

A little class-room experience usually serves to disillusion 
the teacher if he feels that the child regards him as the model 
of all that is desirable, the model which he constantly imi- 
13 



186 Education as Menial Adjustment 

tates. The difference in age, maturity, interests, and view- 
points on all questions vital in child life, serves to make the 
child feel intuitively that the teacher is too lofty to be imitated. 
The average child's respect and reverence for his teachers 
place most of us on a plane too high for imitation. The child 
patterns himself after that which he feels is attainable. This 
explains why the reputed leaders of the class so often become 
the molders of the character and actions of the average child. 
The teacher who wins the class leaders and instils in them a 
new spirit has taken the most effective action in raising class- 
room order to the heights of discipline. As in the real world 
about us, so in the school community, public opinion is the 
reflection of views and standards of the recognized controllers 
of the social body. It is what the leaders of the children 
hold rather than what the teacher espouses that makes for 
right or wrong in the child's life. No matter what we may 
say, "telling on the wrongdoer" will always he wrong in' 
children's eyes, "taking revenge" will always be justified by 
them, and "cribbing" will ever be regarded as a verj r par- 
donable if not a dubious vice in examinations and tests. 

We must add a word of caution to this conception of 
morality as a result of imitation. There are two standards 
of ethics, the revealed and the individual. The child be- 
comes conscious of the former and acquires it in the imita- 
tive process that we explained. The revealed standard is 
society's standard, which we copy. But, as we reach ma- 
turity, we develop a personal sense of right and wrong so 
that in later life our morality is not imitative but rather 
initiative. All acts of later life should be gauged by a per- 
sonal standard which is higher than society's moral yard- 
stick that is reproduced by all. 

Limitations of Imitation. — Despite all the possibilities 
that may be revealed in an analysis of imitation, it must 
not be given undue importance in education. At best imita- 
tion is an instinct and as such needs utilization, transforma- 
tion, and elimination rather than extra development. It 
shows itself at the age of about six or nine months, develops 



Imitation and Emulation 187 

continually, and becomes the chief means of acquiring knowl- 
edge when reason, hereditary influence, and individuality are 
weakest. But, when the age of reason is attained, when the 
individual can guide his own life, imitation must be curtailed ; 
it must be the object of education to achieve all its possibili- 
ties and then leave it far behind. 

A training in which imitation is the basis and the ultimate 
aim must produce a static mind and a static society. The 
first step for future progress is a mastery of the past. But 
we must not merely relive the past. The dynamic factor, 
the personnel of the present age, must not be neglected. 
Overimitation makes progress in society impossible and causes 
mental stagnation in the individual. Mere absorption, doing 
what others do, and learning what others learn, without per- 
sonal reaction, is not education, but training. Mind must 
be more than a duplicating function. 

Therefore, in all conscious imitative acts in the class room 
the child should be led to imitate the spirit rather than the 
process or the form. "We may urge upon the child to imi- 
tate another's conduct. If he reproduces the person's ges- 
tures, speech, intonation, we have an affected individual. 
Conduct cannot be imitated unless the spirit of the leader 
is caught. We must take the attitude which says "what 
would he have done under these circumstances, not what 
did he do." In the one case imitation is stimulating, in the 
other stultifying. 

Emulation and Rivalry: Their Nature. — Imitation, we 
concluded, was prompted by the socializing nature of the in- 
dividual and led each person to reproduce the actions of 
others in his class, thus establishing a common sympathy 
which forms the basis of community life and social harmony. 
But the mind's activity manifests itself through another in- 
stinct, closely allied to imitation, viz., emulation, in which we 
seek at least to equal, if not to excel, the achievements of 
others. This emulative tendency often becomes nothing more 
than an application of the principles of rivalry and competi- 
tion, forces and motives, that are clearly individualistic. Em- 



188 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ulation is therefore prompted by the individuating nature of 
the child and is opposed in spirit and in nature to the social 
craving. It seeks rather to give expression to the instinctive 
longing, to acquire and maintain as much individual power 
and personal influence as possible. Emulation pits individ- 
ual against individual ; with rivalry, we class it among the 
instincts of antisocial or individual activity. 

This desire to excel, being instinctive and being prompted 
by the individuating nature, is very powerful and dominating. 
It causes each individual to put what strain he can upon 
himself, to accomplish what others have achieved. In emula- 
tion and rivalry we find the spirit of fight and the zest of 
competition which lead to greater personal exertion. In 
competition the child learns his own strength and power, for 
it is in the struggle and the fight that we become conscious of 
our capabilities and endurance. For this reason emulation 
and rivalry are prominent factors in class and school disci- 
pline, and occupy a high position among the motives to which 
the teacher appeals in his desire to get the maximum endeavor 
from each child. 

Emulation in Past Education. — The greatest, if not the 
loftiest, development of the principles of emulation and 
rivalry, we find, was attained by the Jesuits in their educa- 
tional system. Their curriculum holds, "Emulation is the 
whetstone of latent talent, and the spur of industry." To 
live up to this estimate of emulation they divided their 
classes into two intellectual armies, the Carthaginians and 
the Romans. Questions were hurled at both sides by the in- 
structors, then each army quizzed its opponent in order to 
see which would be victorious in the intellectual onslaught. 
In tin- lower classes the endeavor was to make each child 
both an incentive and a corrective to its neighbors. Hence, 
these children were taught in pairs. Each child was first his 
mate's rival in his work and, second, the guard of his con- 
duet, watching him for unconscious disobedience or inten- 
tional violation of school regulations. "Nothing will be more 
honorable than to outstrip a fellow student, nothing more dis- 



Imitation and Emulation 189 

honorable than to be outstripped," the course of study de- 
clares. "Hence," it concludes, "in order to maintain emu- 
lation it is necessary that each pupil have a rival to control 
his conduct and criticize him." Monroe, in criticizing the 
abnormal emphasis on emulation and rivalry, says, "This 
amounted to almost repression on the one hand and espion- 
age on the other." By way of defence of the Jesuit Fathers 
we must add that these two instincts were invoked to so 
great an extent because it was their great hope to rid their 
educational system of the violent forms of corporal punish- 
ment so prevalent in the schools of their day. 

The Port Royalists give us an interpretation of the use 
of emulation and rivalry that is truly educational. "Each 
child is to be its own rival and to try to outstrip itself" 
was their dictum. We often give all credit to Rousseau for 
condemning competitive emulation in education ; yet he only 
reiterated what the Port Royalists had said so long before 
him when he declared that he was opposed to teaching the 
child to emulate others because that degenerates into greed 
and selfishness. Let the child try to excel his own past 
achievements rather than those of others. Let each to-day vie 
with each yesterday, then each to-morrow will find him 
richer in thought and character, and farther on the road of 
progress. 

Emulation Misapplied To-day. — Emulation and rivalry are 
often misunderstood to-day in class-room work. The most 
common violation is the habit of seating children according 
to their rank in lessons. It is the old system in which the 
brightest child sits at the head of the class and the dullard 
at the foot. There are three objections to such practices that 
are so serious that this system of rivalry and emulation ought 
to become a thing of the past. To begin with, the rivalry is 
most bitter and intense because it is extremely personal. 
Child number ten feels that he must beat child number nine. 
The idea that his own percentage must be increased, that he 
must do better to-day than last week, that he must strive to ob- 
tain ninety per cent, and not the old rating of eighty, all these 



11)0 Education as Mental Adjust aunt 

are no considerations in his effort. No matter what rating 
he attains, as long as it is above that of number nine he feels 
that he has succeeded, despite the fact that he scored only 
sixty per cent, to last week's eighty. Child number nine 
is therefore his enemy until he takes his place, then number 
eight becomes the opponent. This personal rivalry makes a 
child rejoice in his neighbor's misfortune and begrudge his 
success; this surely is a most undesirable attitude to inculcate 
in our children. 

This means of arousing emulation and rivalry is not as 
effective and far reaching as we are prone to believe at first. 
It does not appeal to the great number in the class whom we 
are most anxious to reach. The child who ranks thirty-fifth 
in a class of fifty does not care about ranking thirtieth or 
even twenty-fifth. The one place is as unattractive as the 
other. Those near the top, who are naturally industrious, are 
over-stimulated to forge ahead. Since emulation and rivalry 
are confined, therefore, to a narrow circle of the Leaders of 
the class, the spirit of struggle and strife becomes too intense. 

As a final objection we must consider the effeel thai this 
method has upon those few children who sit last. To be 
placed at the foot of the class brands the child "dunce" day 
in and day out. It is a means of reviving the old "fool's 
cap" and "dunce chair," in spirit, if not in fact. Such hu- 
miliation is cruel and degrading, and soon breaks a child's 
spirit. No boy or girl should bear the stigma of "the most 
stupid." We must not excuse such practices by saying "the 
children soon get used to it." The teacher who uttered these 
words failed to see that a system which makes the child in- 
sensible to shame and public disgrace needs no further con- 
demnation to eradicate it from the class room to-day. 

The teacher who groups the class into two or three divi- 
sions is far wiser. A pupil is emulating and rivaling no one 
pupil, but simply trying to do work equal to that done in 
a higher group. If a spirit of rivalry should arise it is an 
impersonal one between group and group. Group rivalry 
often develops a spirit of loyalty to the group. This means 



Imitation and Emulation 191 

appeals to almost every child in the room for there is a de- 
sire to leave division B for A, C for B. To make a change 
from one division to another is a marked jump ; it is a se- 
rious and significant step, but to be shifted from rank twenty- 
eight to twenty-five means nothing. And, finally, there is 
no foot of the class, no "most stupid." If we have only two 
groups, or at most three, there is little stigma attached to 
being in the low division. 

In addition to counteracting the disadvantages in place- 
taking, we find decided teaching benefits in grouping the 
class. Having all A children in one group, B's in another, 
and C's in a third, the teacher can with ease direct her at- 
tention to the slower or the brighter pupils at a moment's 
notice when the occasion arises. Should she at any moment 
decide to present a subject by the group system, the children 
are seated properly. If the children are scattered about the 
room there is a divided attention, an extra effort to make 
sure that she is not neglecting any of the slower pupils. 

Prize-giving is another means of arousing rivalry and 
emulation that is almost wholly unwarranted with an expe- 
rienced teacher. Only a few in the class have an opportunity 
of succeeding, hence we are appealing to the same small 
group, we are creating the same bitter personal rivalry. 
Then, too, if indulged in too frequently, it appeals to rather 
an unethical principle of conduct. The child begins to re- 
gard the prize as a reward for proper action. He obeys, is 
studious and conscientious because it pays. It is equivalent 
to perverting the old maxim to read "Honesty is intrinsi- 
cally the best policy because it pays dollars and cents." 
Where prizes are given they must not be more frequent than 
twice in one term, and be given not only for greatest pro- 
ficiency but also for most marked effort. Then the average 
or even the backward child has the same chance as the one 
near the head of the class, for we can all show earnest en- 
deavor even if we cannot all succeed. 

Rivalry and emulation can be used to good advantage in 
the class. It is undoubtedly good to emulate one's past self, 



192 Education as Mental Adjustment 

but we may emulate others and even go into a competition 
with them, and still keep the rivalry friendly and prevent it 
from degenerating into selfishness and greediness. Competi- 
tion with others may show us how inferior we are, how much 
we in nst improve to be classed with our rivals. It seems to 
awaken a spirit of righteous discontent with ourselves, and 
it thus gives us an extra spur toward improvement. The 
joy and the enthusiasm of a spirited game are all gone with- 
out the friendly competition and rivalry. No runner does 
so well when he runs alone. Athletic records are not made 
during practice, but in the heat of competition. 

Rivalry is a motive force in all animal life. The horse 
instinctively quickens his step as it hears the sounds of 
an approaching horse. The hound never chases its prey so 
quickly as when there are other dogs chasing for the same 
end. Rivalry is the propelling force of ambition. The con- 
sciousness that our friends have made more out of opportuni- 
ties like our own is a tremendous spur for further progress. 
James sums the matter up by estimating that "Rivalry does 
nine-tenths of the world's work." Emulation is an instinct, 
and. like the others, it needs utilization and guidance, and 
suffers from the danger of overemphasis. With proper care 
and direction it can be made to subserve the aim of education. 

But at all times we must remember that these two in- 
stincts, rivalry and emulation, call up the individuating na- 
ture, already too strong in childhood. Life is becoming more 
interrelated and more social every day. Our highest develop- 
ment and greatest salvation lie in cooperation, in working to- 
gether, not apai't. Emulation and rivalry, and personal com- 
petition, must, therefore, receive no undue emphasis in the 
class, for they lead us away from, not toward, the tendency 
and spirit of modern social and economic life. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Baldwin. Mental Development in the Child and Race, Chaps. 6, 9, 10, 
1 I and 12. 



Imitation and Emulation 193 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 16. 
Cooley." Human Nature and Social Order, Chap. 2. 
Deahl. Imitation, Columbia University Studies, May, 1900. 
Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 24. 
Kirkpatrick. Fundamentals of Child Study, Chap. 8. 
Tarde. The Laws of Imitation. 



CHAPTER XIII 

THE DOCTRINE OF INTEREST AND EFFORT 

Emulation is the bridge connecting imitation and interest. 
We saw that imitation made the individual self-conscious of 
his powers. His strong individuating nature then led him 
to endeavor to emulate his fellowmen in order to equal if not 
to excel them. But we do not emulate nor imitate everybody 
nor everything. We select, consciously or unconsciously, only 
those that have a peculiar personal meaning for us, i. e., those 
things that interest us. For such things we gladly strive. 
But if we cannot attain them, nor imitate them, nor equal 
them, in our attempts at emulation, we put an extra strain 
upon our consciousness, an extra exertion upon our capabili- 
ties and powers in order to achieve what we set out to accom- 
plish. This extra strain or exertion upon consciousness is 
effort. 

Origin of Interest in Life and Education. — Primitive man 
was occupied solely with the problem of making a living, of 
keeping body and soul together. Whatever interest he had in 
life was unconsciously wrapped up in those activities which 
produced the necessities of existence. This was the sum total 
of life. The idea of drudgery never entered his conscious- 
ness. It was reserved for a later development and a higher 
civilization. The feeling of satisfaction of physical wants and 
feeling of bodily satiety were the only pleasures and the only 
interests of his life. 

But, while primitive man had only one means of express- 
ing his self-activity, only one kind of a goal to realize, we 
to-day have innumerable methods of giving vent to our self- 
activity and equally numerous aims to achieve. When we 

194 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 195 

find a means of expressing our activity that is in harmony 
with our inborn desires, that is most appropriate to our pecu- 
liar selves, we experience a feeling of satisfaction. This satis- 
faction supplies the element of interest in our work. But, 
using our activity in ways not in accord with our innate de- 
sires and capabilities, and accomplishing objects that do not 
coincide with our aims, give rise to that feeling of dissatis- 
faction which marks uninteresting work or drudgery. Savage 
society centered life and its goal about self-preservation ; 
hence there was interest in that. Modern life presents so 
many varied occupations that, unless we engage in the proper 
one, our activity becomes drudgery instead of interesting life 
work. Drudgery is therefore a product of a higher and more 
varied civilization. The opposite of interest is not work but 
drudgery. When our occupation uses our activity and capa- 
bilities in the direction which they naturally seek we find in- 
terest and hence pleasure in the toil, no matter how difficult. 
There are no union hours for the artist or the professional 
class. Those engaged in occupation not parallel with their 
natural cravings are lost in drudgery, they are the misfits — 
perhaps through no fault of theirs— but nevertheless the sad 
by-products of progress. We see, therefore, that the problem 
of interest has a larger scope than the narrow class-room 
teaching view-point would lead us to suppose. It has a mes- 
sage for the sociologist as well as for the teacher. 

Importance of Interest. — 1. A common definition of in- 
terest that will serve as a beginning in developing our doc- 
trine and its application to the class room is found in Dexter 
and Garlick's "Psychology of the School-room." To them 
"interest is the name given to that pleasurable feeling which 
is evoked by an object or idea, and gives that object or idea 
the power of arousing and sustaining the attention." To 
quote Home, "Interest is not a form of knowledge, though 
knowledge may be interesting; neither is it a kind of action, 
though action, too, may be interesting. But interest is pri- 
marily a feeling." By feeling we mean the "tone" of pleas- 
ure or displeasure which accompanies each of our experi- 



196 Education as Mental Adjustment 

euces. In conscious or voluntary attention wc make effort 
focal, hence the action of the will is necessitated. In interest 
there is a spontaneous pleasurable feeling which draws the 
mind to a particular form of knowledge ; interest links mind 
and fact, hence it is an extremely important condition in 
teaching and in study, for it is a cause of knowledge. 

2. Interest always has an object for which it strives. It 
is the conception of the end to be attained that gives meaning 
and intelligence to our activity. To quote, "The self does 
not run like an empty mill, producing nothing and seeking 
no product. Activity without an object is blind; with it, in- 
telligent." Hence, when interest is present in teaching, we 
are moving toward a particular goal, for there is a definite 
path to be traveled and a positive end to be attained. 

3. To acquire knowledge, prolonged and constant effort 
is needed. Children, immature and weak mentally, cannot 
give long concentration and close application to a task; in- 
terest is hence essential because it helps focus attention and 
effort by introducing pleasure. 

Characteristics of Interest. — In a strict sense of the term 
we should speak of interests, not interest. Modern educators 
are beginning to class interests with instincts, for there is 
something urgent, active, propulsive in an interest. We have 
an interest in constructing things, in building, in telling, in 
finding out, just as we have instincts along these lines. The 
difference lies in the fact that an instinct leads to a reflex ac- 
tion; an interest usually does not, but rather to an action 
realized through conscious effort. Instincts of one individual 
are the instincts of all others, but the interests of one person 
are decidedly different from those of another. Hence we say 
that interests are individual characteristics, instincts, class 
characteristics. An interest is not only an individual char- 
acteristic, but it is thoroughly subjective. We feel it, we 
know it, it is part and parcel of our natures and tempera- 
ments, deciding for us our choices and our preferences. An 
interest is much easier to eradicate and undermine. Thus, a 
child's interest in one kind of literature, the "Diamond Dick" 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 197 

stories, that we deem so objectionable and which causes so 
much anxiety to teachers and librarians, usually dies out 
when the child passes the age of adolescence. He tires of 
the same hair-breadth escapes, and the usual melodramatic 
climaxes. Such an interest usually disappears at the dawn 
of adolescence. Then, too, it is not unusual to wean a boy 
from such an interest by an honest and frank talk, followed 
by the recommendation of such books as the Trowbridge's, 
the Castleman's, the Tomlinson's, and the Henty's, and even 
Alger, if need be, at the beginning. As we begin to substitute 
stories of travel, adventure, biography, war, and the like, a 
new interest may develop which is as strong and as dominat- 
ing as the old one, if not more so; we are thus utilizing the 
child's interest to read, and turning it into the proper 
channel. 

Interests, therefore, become both an end and a means in 
education. From the point of view of the child, an interest 
is a means, for it is the motive which leads to the acquisition 
of knowledge, the exertion of effort, and the accomplishment 
of the aim or object it covets. From the point of view of 
the teacher engaged in the act of teaching, it is an end. As 
such it marks the ideal which the teacher wishes to inculcate, 
the star that is to guide and direct the future activity of the 
child in this particular field of knowledge. Thus we are seek- 
ing to arouse an interest in proper conduct, in literature, in 
study, in nature, in things assthetic, and in sounds harmoni- 
ous. Interest in the process is a means in education ; interest 
in the final attainment and the lasting result, an end. Much 
higgling and haggling has been going on in education about 
the true position of interest in teaching. Some see it as a 
means, others as an end, but, for some mysterious reason, 
each fails to see that the other is right ; hence both are cor- 
rect. This conception will help us materially when we reach 
the discussion of the controversy of interest vs. effort. 

Another essential to note is the fact that interest is ever- 
present in all activities of the child. This the teacher is most 
prone to disbelieve. We can readily see the presence of inter- 



198 Education as Mental Adjustment 

est when the child is at his game, in the workshop, reading 
an interesting story or listening to his teacher's narration of 
the history. But where is the interest when the child is strug- 
gling with the multiplication tables, learning the location of 
islands, capes, cities in geography, names' and dates in his- 
tory, outrageous unphonetic monstrosities in spelling? The 
interest in the former group of activities is positive and dy- 
namic, leading the child in each activity. In the latter group 
it is static, negative, but present for all that. The child is 
controlled by the interest to escape certain forms of punish- 
ment which follow disobedience. He is interested in saving 
himself from the odium of receiving a deficient mark, from 
the disgrace of bringing home a bad report card, and the 
like; he is interested in being through with the task. There 
is motive present. Of course, it is our endeavor to make 
the positive and dynamic interest characteristic of as much 
school work as possible. But withal much of the class-room 
work will never be done from any other interest than the 
negative, static one. 

As a final point, we must remember that interest and 
effort must not be considered as opposite conditions in teach- 
ing but rather as inseparable companions. To merely inter- 
est children without demanding effort of them means to turn 
school duties into an amusement, to dissipate and waste the 
energies of youth. To require effort and exertion of chil- 
dren without interest and the pleasurable element means 
to introduce the drudgery, the mechanical drills, the weari- 
ness of the old elementary school and its teachings by memo- 
rizing without a rational basis. Interest and effort, each gains 
strength and meaning in the presence of the other, each loses 
its educational value when alone; hence they are complemen- 
tary and mutually supplementary conditions in teaching. In- 
terest has been called the "long arm lever" of education. 
With it what obstacles of instruction cannot be removed, 
what attention and efforl will the child not give! Because 
all interest must result in effort, interesl seeks no1 the line of 
least resistance, but the line of greatest attraction ; not to 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 199 

make toil necessarily easy, but pleasurable, so that we will do 
it for its own sake. 

The Interest vs. the Effort School in Education. — The lack 
of a proper conception of the mutuality of interest and effort 
has always been the cause of bitter contention. The ultimate 
function of interest in education has given rise to two schools. 
The older of the two emphasizes that the school is a prepara- 
tion for future life; in the post-school days the child will 
meet problems that are trying and exceedingly difficult ; 
hard knocks and merciless treatment will often be his por- 
tion. School work should therefore be conducted in a some- 
what similar spirit. Stern and unrelenting should be the 
discipline; difficult and serious should be the work, so that 
life's future battle will find the individual well prepared. 
Effort and will-power must predominate in the school studies. 
Effort is the keynote in their plan of education. 

The second and more modern group of educators assert 
that the school is a participation in life as well as a prepara- 
tion for it, hence, school work must lose the element of 
drudgery and substitute for it pleasure. The child must be 
led to feel that he has an interest in the things he studies. 
"We must show him that the lessons of physics and physical 
geography learned in the school room apply to every-day life, 
that the scenes of past history are being enacted before his 
very eyes in the present. Interest must be the keynote in 
class and school work. 

These two opposite views of interest have led to two op- 
posing schools in education that are known as the effort, or 
disciplinary, and the interest school, respectively. Their 
rival contentions have been the cause of endless argument and 
debate. Dewey calls them the participants in an educational 
law suit. The controversy is important, for a proper 
verdict determines the spirit of the work and the manage- 
ment of the school. Let us therefore see the points at issue, 
the imputations and limitations hurled back and forth. 

The interest school maintains most of what we have said 
in discussing interest as a feeling. Their contention is that 



200 Education as Mental Adjustment 

the chief function of the teacher is to so present the subject 
that it arouses interest. This will guarantee attention and 
fix the line of activity, whether physical, mental, or moral. 
The child learns more when he is free, when he is interested, 
when he pursues an activity willingly. Nothing can be ac- 
complished by forcing and driving the child. There must be 
a spirit, not only of freedom, but of spontaneity, if we expect 
the child's activity to express itself, to bring out the most 
and the best of the possibilities wrapped up in it. With in- 
terest as the shibboleth and as the teachers' educational com- 
pass needle, we can be assured of a sympathetic attitude to- 
ward the child, for the teacher is forced to study its natural 
instincts, to guide, control, and utilize them as we suggested 
in our past study. If the child is to work because he is forced, 
then we weaken his activity because it becomes dependent 
upon outside pressure. Remove the force from without and 
the child quits his work. Hence, there is no element of per- 
manence in such a training. Effort education is morally bad, 
for it encourages deception and hypocrisy. The child pre- 
tends to be at work, but his thoughts and desires are far 
from his assigned task. The effort theory is a psychological 
contradiction, because it is impossible to call forth any useful 
activity, any necessary expression of the self-activity, unless 
interest is present to serve as a motive. The effort theory 
further substitutes one interest for another, one that is indi- 
rect, negative, and static for another that is direct, positive, 
and dynamic. The child works from a sense of fear of the 
consequences should he refuse. The effort school would make 
an individual dull, mechanical, automatic, controlled by a 
blind sense of duty. 

The effort school educators constantly urge that the basic 
function of the school is to prepare for life in the real world. 
There no one stands ready to sweeten life's disagreeable ex- 
periences and activities. We must learn to swallow the bitter 
pill, to take the setbacks and disappointments. Each reverse 
must find us stronger and ever ready to renew the fight. The 
real man is he who, like Malcolm, says, 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 201 

"Lay on, Macduff; 
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough." 

If fate is kind and holds a pleasurable future for us, and 
if our path is to be strewn with roses, nothing is lost. Fore- 
warned is forearmed, but forewarned and forearmed are the 
best guarantee of indomitable courage in life's struggles. 
The interest educators seek to do too much for the child, to 
"sugar-coat" the bitter, to remove the difficulties in school 
work, which are really blessings. They are constantly prod- 
ding the child on, overstimulating it intellectually, helping 
it over all the turns and rough places. The result is obvious. 
They are hurting the child morally and intellectually, for, in 
giving undue help, they weaken. The interest theory is a de- 
lusion; it hides the eold fact, presents only the interesting 
part of the subject; but things dull and uninteresting must 
be learned later anyhow, hence, instead of solving the prob- 
lem, they only postpone it. The theory also defeats its own 
ends, for, in constantly trying to make the dull facts inter- 
esting, it leads the child to expect a tone of pleasure in all 
tasks. When, in the last analysis, all devices to interest have 
been used, the child has not the necessary concentration and 
power of application to master its tasks. The child is left 
stranded high and dry and must wait for the flood tide of 
interest to carry it to its aim. The real test of an educational 
system is always the power which the child can put forth by 
its own promptings from within. The child must be trained 
toward this ideal. School discipline must be severe and rig- 
orous. Teaching should require the maximum effort. The 
teacher should be guided by the question, "do they under- 
stand?" not "are they interested?" Interested or not in- 
terested, the child must learn to work because of the author- 
ity which controls. In the school it is the authority of the 
teacher, in later life it is the authority of life's forces and 
circumstances. 

This debate is a question of interest and spontaneity vs. 
effort and authority. The controversy is about a century 
14 



202 Education as Mental Adjustment 

old, but it crops out at every educational conference, and at 
attempts to inaugurate new curricula or to modify existing 
ones. Which of these two sides are we to stamp ' ' Approved ' ' ? 
Which shall determine our class-room ideals and endeavors? 
Both views are full of misconceptions, both lack a comprehen- 
sion of the true nature and the motive force of interest, and 
both show an utter ignorance of the psychology at the basis 
of the problem. Dewey, who has made the greatest contribu- 
tion to the theory of interest, suggests the first two criticisms. 

Misconceptions of the Problem in the Two Schools. — 
(1) A mere cursory view of the arguments bandied back 
and forth by the contestants shows us that both interest and 
effort schools are strong on the negative side. Each shows 
the limitations and misconceptions of the other, each fails to 
show its own real educational basis. Each is destructive in 
its criticisms of the other, but neither is constructive in its 
own position. Because each is right in the contention of the 
other's demerits, both uphold views that are necessarily 
wrong. Each fails to see that interest and effort are not 
opposite or mutually exclusive, but, as was emphasized in 
our study, they must be aroused and utilized together, for 
one is the inevitable consequence of the other. 

2. Both schools misconceive interest as a condition out- 
side of the child. Those who think that to interest is to 
"sugar-coat" place the interest in the subject-matter. Inter- 
est to them is not a real subjective feeling, but a fictitious 
process by which we hide the disagreeable aspects of knowl- 
edge and thus take advantage of the child. These people for- 
get that interest is something within the child; its promptings 
come from the inner consciousness, and go out to an object. 
The all-absorbing question to both is, "How shall we impart 
knowledge?" not "Wha1 interests in the child shall we stim- 
ulate so tnat the child will, of its own accord, put forth its 
self-activity, its true personality, to make the facts and expe- 
riences we present part of itself?" This is what was meant 
when we said thai interest is subjective, not objective; this 
is precisely what both schools fail to see. 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 203 

3. The effort .school, too, fails to see that "to make in- 
teresting ' ' is not synonymous with ' ' making easy. ' ' This is 
why its sponsors constantly emploj' the term "sugar-coat" 
in deriding the followers of the interest theory. Here, again, 
they misconceive interest as a fictitious process in which we 
mislead the unsuspecting child. Real interest is not a make- 
believe condition, but one in which we attempt to present the 
vital meaning and the importance of a subject or a task so 
that the child feels its own cravings realized in the work. In- 
terest brings a permanent and natural association with the 
subject, and thus leads to action which may be trying and 
difficult. We may explain the formation of a river and lake 
system to a child by demanding that he image to himself a 
long chain of mountains with melting snow and ice washing 
down both slopes. The mountains are thus a watershed, 
which give rise to a series of rivers on either side. But if 
the mountains are arranged in a group which is more or less 
circular in form, then the water which flows down the sides 
cannot go very far, but is collected in the inclosed basin, thus 
causing lakes. "We may even add a rough and misleading dia- 
gram on the blackboard. The child is nevertheless not inter- 
ested, but he learns and understands what was presented. 
We may, however, show a good picture of the mountains ar- 
ranged as suggested, or, better still, a clay model of the to- 
pography. The child is asked to construct a duplicate at 
home, from putty, to pour water on the top of the moun- 
tains, and finally to note the water formation. We are thus 
following a method calculated to arouse interest. What pains 
will a boy not take to get putty, to construct the model, to 
attain a fair likeness! The interesting method requires more 
care, diligence, and effort on the part of the child than the 
uninteresting one. The reason is obvious: we have touched 
on the child's inherent interest, the interest to construct. 
What difficulties will the boy not gladly meet in completing 
a bit of work in the shop ! A boy building a boat will gladly 
listen to an explanation of buoyancy and specific gravity in 
order to make it float. Yet in the physics room these facts 



204 Education as Mental Adjustment 

may bore him. McMurry tells of a class of children that went 
to the trouble of learning over thirty parts of a ship in order 
to properly complete a boat that had been begun in the shop. 
A girl will often resent interference and aid injudiciously 
offered while she is engaged in sewing a dress for her dolls, 
in painting a design for her calendar mount or blotter cover. 
Even kindergarten children trying to build with their blocks 
or model with the clay show the same resentment when we 
foolishly offer to solve the little difficulties as they arise. 
These are the very parts they enjoy. We sometimes spend 
valuable hours over a puzzle or a stupid charade. Is it be- 
cause these are easy? In all these cases interest is present, 
for these activities are the means of utilizing an inborn, in- 
herent yearning. A statement more correct, but which must 
be taken guardedly, is "To make things interesting, make 
things difficult rather than easy." 

4. The effort theory errs again in its assumption that 
the will is trained by merely forcing an individual through 
a disagreeable activity. Because the child is made to buckle 
down to his ten definitions and five exceptions in grammar 
through fear, his will-power is not necessarily strengthened. 
Unless the child will willingly study the next ten rules and 
apply himself without direction from the outside or threat 
of punishment, his will is just as weak as heretofore. In- 
creased will-power means spontaneity, free choice, and self- 
directed effort in the accomplishment of what is considered 
right. We might argue that a prisoner sitting on a stone 
pile making little stones from big rocks, doing what he detests 
but must accomplish, is having his will trained. Is ho learn- 
ing to love his work, acquiring that interest in it and attitude 
toward it which will make him seek it when his imprisonment 
is over? Is he not rather pi .inning to even his score with 
society when released by never doing a day's honest labor? 
The prison labor breaks and deadens his will; it does not 
develop if ; yet the task assigned to the prisoner meets with 
all the educational requisites assigned by the disciples of the 
effort school. The will works in that line and in that direc- 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 205 

tion which interest prompts; hence it is the voluntary and 
the spontaneous performance of a right act which indicates a 
trained will. 

This same school would assign difficult problems to train 
the will. What is a difficulty or a problem to its members? An 
isolated, disagreeable condition, concocted by the teacher and 
existing only in her mind or in the textbook. Is such a con- 
dition designed to train the will ? We cannot thrust a problem 
upon a child merely by labeling it "a difficulty." It must 
be a natural condition taken out of the real circumstances of 
actual life. To require children to solve an example in which 
"a tank has three pipes, one fills it in three hours, another in 
two, while the third empties it in four; how long will it take 
to fill the tank, all three pipes operating?" may require an 
effort but it does not train the will. Are we presenting a 
real problem to our children when we ask them, "Of one 
hundred fifty-five cuckoos observed in three hours, forty-six 
black-billed cuckoos ate one thousand one hundred ninety- 
six tree caterpillars, and one hundred nine yellow-billed ones 
ate two thousand seven hundred twenty-five. At this rate, 
the black-billed cuckoos destroy what per cent, more than 
the yellow-billed?"* These are the problems the school pre- 
sents to fit the child to meet those in later life. Will this 
training serve its purpose? Will the mere exertion of will- 
power to achieve the result in these artificial and impossible 
problems give a developed will? The situation we create 
in the class must be part of the child's life; its solution must 
be urgent, vital in aiding him to realize his goal. If the prob- 
lem meets these conditions it is interesting and designed to 
train the will. 

5. A final point in the indictment which education must 
bring against these two schools is the fact that both show 
the same erroneous conception of concentration, for both lead 
to a division of energy and thought which is demoralizing 
and devitalizing in all serious work. The psychologist speaks 
of a simultaneous and a successive division of energy, both 
* Smith 's Intermediary Arithmetic, p. 227. 



206 Ed ileal ion as Mental Adjustment 

of which he condemns in no mistakable terms. Each of 
these is illustrated by the one school or the other. 

The effort enthusiasts fail to see that to force a child into 
an activity whose process and end he detests will never lead 
to a concentration of effort, The child goes through the pre- 
scribed activity in a most mechanical, dispirited fashion, 
driven like the famed "dumb driven cattle." Part of his en- 
ergy and mind goes to this, the necessary evil, but the rest 
of his attention involuntarily reverts to thoughts and dreams 
that are more interesting. The aim of the effort education, 
to develop conscious concentration, is thus not only frus- 
trated, for there is a simultaneous division of attention at 
any one moment, but it is even made impossible by training 
the child in diffusing rather than uniting his effort. This 
simultaneous division of activity not only gives poorer re- 
sults and weakens the child intellectually, but has a bad 
moral effect, for there is a deceptive attitude of industry. 
Dewey brings home this point when he says, "Nor do I see 
how any one familiar with the great mass of school work 
can deny that the greater part of the pupils are gradually 
forming habits of divided attention. If the teacher is skillful 
and wide awake, if she is what is termed a good disciplina- 
rian, the child will indeed learn to keep his senses intent in 
certain ways, but he will also learn to direct the fruitful 
imagery which constitutes the value of what is before the 
senses in totally other directions." 

The interest advocates are not free from this type of 
psychological error. To them interest is a condition of learn- 
ing which necessitates the intervention of the teacher to make 
attractive the subject which is unpleasant. Is the mind's at- 
titude toward the subject changed? Not necessarily. Re- 
move the pretense, the overstimulation, and the unusual ap- 
peal by the teacher, and the child finds nothing attractive 
about the subject. With the teacher's effort and his mode of 
presentation, the particular facts and knowledge are enjoyed 
and the mind concentrates on what is being taught. But, 
with the artificial condition created by the teacher removed, 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 207 

the child's mind reverts from the subject in question to the 
thoughts and activities in which the child naturally delights, 
to come back again only when the teacher once more takes 
the lead in dispelling what is seemingly tedious. We have 
here, then, a series of fluctuations, of alternate waxing and 
waning of effort and of attention to the task, hence an atten- 
tion successively if not simultaneously divided, but divided 
for all that. 

The Truer Conception of Interest as a Mode of Self-Ex- 
pression. — The truer conception of interest which is in har- 
mony with our theory of self-activity and mental development 
regards interest as a form of self-expression. Since instincts 
are means of expressing our self-activity and inborn power 
and possibilities, we study interest under the instinctive as- 
pect of the mind, a classification which the older psychologist 
would scoff at, but which his modern brethren sanction and 
approve unanimously. Let us turn to this conception of 
interest. 

James says, ' ' Every man has many me 's. He is a hierarchy 
of me's. In its widest possible sense, a man's ego or me is 
the sum total of all that he calls his. Every man is at once 
a material me, a social me, a spiritual me, et al. — and when 
he is working for any phase of any one of these we may say 
that he is expressing himself." To this DeGarmo adds, 
"Whatever an individual does, therefore, he does to express 
some aspect of himself. We may say that interest is a feeling 
which accompanies the idea of self-expression." Interest, in 
the educational sense, is the pleasurable feeling experienced 
in expressing what we feel most, in acting out an impulse 
that is most urgent and craving. 

The child's urgencies and interests that are constantly 
seeking expression and utilization can be summed up under 
a fivefold grouping: the child shows (a) Social and Religious 
Interests, which find their satisfaction in Bible stories, imag- 
inative literature, history, and geography; (b) Speculative and 
Exploring Interests which we call upon in geography, nature 
study, elementary science, et al. ; (c) Reasoning and Logical 



208 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Interests, which we utilize in number work, in grammar, in 
thought problems in all subjects, in all situations; (d) Artis- 
tic and Constructive Interests, which are constantly making 
themselves manifest in all forms of design and construction 
work in which children engage; (e) Expressional Interests, 
whose cravings give the child a keen delight in real compo- 
sition, drawing, active participation in a recitation that is a 
clearing house of thought and suggestion. 

These five main interests form the child's natural stock, 
his uninvested capital. Upon their proper use and exercise 
depends his growth. These five elements of his natural stock 
the child is constantly seeking to invest. Putting them to 
proper use, making them outgoing activities, gives a feeling 
of pleasure which is interest. Interest is hence merely an 
impulse functioning with a view to self-realization ; an active 
attitude toward future experiences which tries to establish 
an identity between itself and the aim to be achieved. There 
is something "urgent, active, and propulsive" in this idea 
of interest. It leads us to accomplishments. Interest is not 
a state of mind to be created, but one that exists and is wait- 
ing to be called upon and utilized. 

To interest a child in the division of fractions would seem 
almost impossible to many. "Have the child listen to the 
explanation and the derivation of the rule, or take the con- 
sequences. Have attention maintained by stern authority" 
would be the method of the effortists. No ! says the modern 
conception of true educational interest. Create a condition 
in which the child must construct a necessary article, but 
the process is dependent upon the ability to divide by a frac- 
tion. The child, in his construction work, finds it necessary 
to divide five and one-quarter inches, the width of the article, 
into small foldings each three-sixteenths of an inch in size. 
How many foldings shall he make? He is interested in the 
construction of the object. The work cannot go on, however, 
until the problem is solved. The child readily sees that it is 
an example in division, that five and one-quarter is to be 
divided by three-sixteenths, but he also realizes that his 



The Doctrine of Interest and Effort 209 

knowledge of division is limited to whole numbers and that 
he does not know how to manipulate fractions in this proc- 
ess. He becomes interested in finding out how to divide by a 
fraction, since his work depends upon this knowledge. Here 
is a true difficulty, a vital problem in whose solution he is 
intensely interested. The teacher should seize upon such a 
condition, for he will find that the child naturally interested 
will listen willingly and put forth effort to learn, for here 
is something that he must acquire if his construction work 
is to be completed. So, too, in all other subjects, interest is 
aroused by placing the task in line with the child's natural 
expression, by making the object to be attained coincide with 
the individual's desire and thus showing him its use and its 
urgent need. Interest hence gives us a sense of worth. Os- 
termann holds that we attend to whatever we feel is needed 
for the successful realization of our endeavors ; we neglect 
whatever has no worth for us. Hence, the initial step in any 
rational lesson is to arouse a motive of need, of worth, of 
curiosity in the child for what we are to teach. 

Relation of Interest to Effort. — Such a conception of in- 
terest in terms of self-expression, of realization of native 
impulses, is thoroughly dynamic and must inevitably be 
most intimately related to effort. In this sense effort can 
legitimately arise in our endeavor to give expression to 
what we feel most, or like most. Effort from this educa- 
tional point of view has no element of toil, irksomeness, or 
drudgery in it, for it springs from the feeling that the desire 
and the act to be accomplished are in a sense identical. This 
is only an elaboration of the statement we made in a pre- 
vious connection when we emphasized the mutual supplemen- 
tary relationship of interest and effort and reiterated the ad- 
vice that the teacher need not concern herself with the prob- 
lem of searching for difficult tasks to train for effort. Arouse 
proper interest and effort will follow in plenty. Hence, we 
are arousing interest in history when the children ask for 
additional information, more recommendations of books like 
the "Spy," "Uncle Tom's Cabin," etc., that give color, life, 



210 Education as Mental Adjustment 

and background to our work; in geography when they gladly 
draw maps or model them, insert facts, read supplementary 
books, stories of travel in the places they are studying; we 
arouse an interest in the reading lesson when the children 
annoy us for more stories by the same author, or others like 
it. When our children merely listen to us, they are obedient ; 
if they passively enjoy what we are teaching, they are 
amused; but to be interested they must be stirred to action, 
for interest is a dynamic condition which shades impercep- 
tibly into effort. 

SUGGESTED READING 

(List Given at the End of the Topic, Chap. XIV.) 



CHAPTER XIV 

HOW TO AROUSE INTEREST AND EFFORT 

In the preceding chapter, interest and effort were treated 
subjectively from the point of view of the pupil. An attempt 
was made to analyze their activities, note their causes, their 
motives, their natures, in a word, their psychology. But the 
teacher is interested in the objective side of the problem ; she 
wants to know how they can be aroused, and by what means 
they can be utilized in daily class work. It is the pedagogy 
rather than the psychology of the subject that the teacher 
emphasizes. We must pass to the objective aspect of the 
problem. 

Principles Which Govern Interest 

I. By Adjustment of Method to the Capabilities of the 
Pupil. — The subject-matter and the method must be adapted 
to the capabilities and mental development of the taught. In 
the criticism of those who make interest synonymous with 
sugar-coating it was seen that to make teaching too simple 
and to assign tasks and problems beneath the ability of the 
average child deadens the mind and makes the pupils turn 
in disgust from the subject. Hence, it was concluded, not 
without a reservation, however, to arouse interest by making 
the subject difficult rather than simple, provided the pupil 
realizes that the problem is within the scope of his capabili- 
ties. The standard must not be carried to the other extreme, 
for work too advanced and beyond the development attained 
by the child will discourage, and by eliminating the pleas- 
urable element will kill interest. Hence, we see the rea- 

211 



212 Education as Mental Adjustment 

son for our initial assertion that we must be governed by 
the capabilities of the taught in presenting any lesson to 
a class. 

The Stages of Development. — The next question which 
the teacher asks is, "What is the criterion by which we are 
to gauge, in a general way, the mental development of the 
child?" The standard was suggested vaguely in studying 
the stages of the intellectual development of the race in the 
discussion of the Culture Epoch Theory. The individual 
mind, like the social mind, passes through three stages. The 
first is the "Presentative Stage," in which knowledge is 
gained through the senses. From infancy to the age of six 
or seven only those things which are objective and concrete 
have any meaning for the child. It does not rise mentally 
above the actual, it is limited by reality. It is the period in 
which high colors attract and impress the child, in which he 
does not learn unless he handles, in which things are dropped 
to become acquainted with the sound, or carried to the mouth 
to be tasted. 

This is followed by the "Representative Period," which 
seems to control until the age of about ten or twelve. Here 
the mind has the power to rebuild for itself what it has ex- 
perienced in the past and, as was said, it can re-present what 
was presented. Not only can it repicture the old, but it 
can retain it with great tenacity. This is the period of mem- 
ory and imagination. This is followed by the "Reasoning 
Stage," which shows its signs at the age of about eleven or 
twelve. It is the period in which the child is a veritable 
animated question mark, in which the child is not prompted 
to find out "what" the thing is but rather "why" it is. In 
the presentative stage the questions arc "what," and are 
urged by sheer curiosity. The child takes the answer on his 
faith in the teacher, and shows no disposition to argue. In the 
"Thought Stage" the questions are prompted by reason 
rather than curiosity and seek origin and purpose; hence 
their form is "why" rather than "what." 

A word of caution may be necessary here. We must not 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 213 

for a moment interpret this classification to mean that reason 
is not present in the Representative or even in the Presenta- 
tive Stage, or that memory and constructive fancy are not 
active in the other two stages. This division of mental de- 
velopment merely shows us that reason is not strong enough 
to be made basic in teaching before the third stage of devel- 
opment has been reached, and that imagination and memory 
are not organized and controlled to a point where they can be 
used with any assurance of results prior to the Representative 
Period. 

Adjustment of Method to Stages of Development. — Since 
the mind passes through these three stages, it becomes the 
endeavor of the school to so develop some of the elementary 
school subjects that they show the three phases in the course 
of their progress through the various grades. Not only does 
the mind pass through these three stages in its own evolution, 
but it takes these three attitudes successively toward the ex- 
periences which are presented. Let us apply this concretely. 
We read a modern course of study in geography and we find 
that the study of the earth is taken up three times. The 
first cycle in geography teaches home geography, the land 
and water forms — the concrete and objective aspects of the 
subject. It is primarily the fourth-year work. The second 
cycle studies the various countries, the physical, industrial, 
and political aspects, the assignment of the fifth through the 
seventh years. Here little can be made concrete and real. 
The child must picture these places and learn them without 
objective demonstration. These are the grades when facts 
are emphasized and geography is taught by an appeal to the 
imagination. The third cycle, the eighth-year geography, 
studies the mathematical, physiographical, and commercial 
sides. The endeavor throughout is to show that life and its 
development are determined by the conditions of climate and 
surface into which the individual is born. Evidently this 
is not a fact period in geography, but one in which the ap- 
peal is to the reason. No new places, no new locations, are 
learned in the last cycle of geography. The aim is rather to 



214 Education as Mental Adjustment 

explain the cause and the importance of those taken up in 
the previous cycles. 

Geography presented in this way arouses interest in the 
sense that we defined it. The child, at the end of the school 
course, considers memory work in geography a drudgery, but 
is interested in following the causes of natural phenomena 
and their influence upon human life. Geography, in the lasl 
cycle, is a study of man rather than of the earth ; in the first 
and the second, a study of the earth rather than of man. Re- 
verse the order of teaching, and interest, the feeling accom- 
panying self-expression, is lost. 

The same development is followed in history. A properly 
organized course of study presents the subject in three cycles. 
It should begin by a bird's-eye view of the subject, studying 
a series of men whose lives become the centers around which 
events are grouped. The only way to make the past concrete 
is to embody it in the story of human character. The child 
in the Presentative Stage is intensely interested in biography, 
because it is calculated to appeal to his mode of comprehen- 
sion by making the work objective. We know that children 
are interested in the Bible, yet the events are in the remote 
past and deal with events and subjects far removed from 
their actual experience. The reason is found in the fact that 
the story in the Bible is developed around a series of men 
rather than events. Hence the history of the fourth year 
should be a study of the striking personalities in our coun- 
try's life. 

The second period, from the fifth through the first half of 
the seventh year, should be an appeal to the imagination and 
the memory, the representative powers of the mind which 
are then alive, by means of ;i detailed study of the dramatic 
events, their sequence and their time. This should be the 
fact and picture cycle of history. But the r\n\ of the sev- 
enth and the whole of the eighth year should he occupied 
with a third study of American history and civics, empha- 
sizing the progress id" our national life, the growth of democ- 
racy, the principles of Americanism, and giving special at- 



Hoiv to Arouse Interest and Effort 215 

tention to cause and effect of events ; this is hence the thought 
aspect rather than the fact aspect of history. This should 
be the period when the children are required to study the 
textbook and extract the meaning out of its printed page, 
write special essays on suitable topics after simple reference 
reading. Such a treatment arouses true interest, for does 
it not lead to action? does it not utilize and express the pow- 
ers most active during this period? does it not lead to effort, 
not mere passive enjoyment? 

II. The New Point of View. — It is our common experi- 
ence that variety is a most necessary element and sure guar- 
antee of interest. Monotony is the chief enemy of interest ; it 
deadens the mind and robs a subject of the interest which 
may be inherent in it. The teacher readily grants this plati- 
tude, but wonders how variety can be introduced into the drill 
and grind of elementary school teaching. 

Review vs. Drill. — Much of the difficulty arises from the 
fact that we do not see enough possibilities in the review les- 
son and thus confuse it with the drill. In careless speech we 
often use drill and review as if they were interchangeable. 
They are essentially different in aim, spirit, and method, and 
should therefore be kept apart. Let us differentiate them in 
concrete lessons. 

Drill 'and Review Differentiated. — A class has just com- 
pleted Germany in its geography work. During the previous 
week Spain was the topic. In taking up each of these two 
countries the teacher followed the causal series carefully. 
The teacher is now anxious to go over the material presented 
in dealing with Germany. Two courses are often possible. The 
teacher may ask questions along the line of the causal series, 
bringing out again location, size, shape, surface, climate, re- 
sources, industries and occupations, products, exports and 
imports, etc., of Germany ; the children now repeat what was 
given them in the former lessons and are forced to follow 
the old order and the stereotyped system. This is a repeti- 
tion or drill lesson. A second plan is not to repeat the facts 
of Germany in the same way in which they were taught, but 



216 Education as Mental Adjustment 

to ask the children to compare Germany with Spain. The 
children now recall the material presented, but, instead of 
trying to reproduce the facts as given, they seek to place them 
in contrast to Spain. This is a Review Lesson. Or, again, 
the teacher may approach the review lesson with the question, 
"Why is Spain a dying country and Germany a progressive 
one?" Compare surface, climate, position, coast, resources, 
etc., and see how, in each case, Germany has the advantage 
and that Spain occupied the front rank among the nations 
only so long as she had colonies to fill her treasury and sup- 
ply her needs. Why is the one a drill lesson and the second 
a review? 

Drill attempts to fix in the mind through constant repe- 
tition. Its appeal is primarily to the memory. Constant 
repetition is dull and kills every spark of life and interest 
because of the monotony inherent in the method. Bagley tells 
us, "The purpose of the drill is to insure the functioning 
of experience as habit." By this he means that through drill 
we seek to make a fact or a process habitual so that, when 
needed at any special time, it can be recalled without much 
thought or trouble. The drill lesson tends to mechanize our 
knowledge. 

Review, from its etymology, means a new view of an old 
idea. A review is a teaching rather than a testing lesson in 
which a subject is recast in an endeavor to better digest and 
assimilate the knowledge. A review appeals to thought and 
requires no exact reproduction. Further illustration may 
show its true character. 

Review and Drill Illustrated. — Having taught Japan, how 
can this country be reviewed in the next geography lesson? 
Surely not by rehashing the causal series, but by asking, 
"Why is Japan the Great Britain of Asia?" All the impor- 
tant physical and commercial facts must be called up by the 
children in an attempt to answer the question. The facts 
of Japan are fixed in the mind by an appeal to thought rather 
than to memory. In reviewing the Sahara Desert we do not 
repeat the old fact of size, shape, kind of surface, tempera- 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 217 

ture, storms, etc. All that is necessary can be obtained from 
the children by the question, "What dangers would you ex- 
pect to meet in crossing Sahara?" The discussion of the 
various tragic possibilities and their reasons gives a com- 
plete survey of the essentials studied. The children tell of 
dangers of starvation and thirst; the cause of these brings 
up the dreary waste, the oases and their scarcity. As they 
conceive themselves lost on the desert sands, misled by the 
mirages, stricken by the sun's rays, buried in the sand 
storms, we have material to recall the size of the desert, its 
climate, its treacheries, and all the peculiarities that make it 
the region that it is. Thus, each of these dangers would 
suggest one or another and finally all the facts that the chil- 
dren need carry away with them. The lesson is interesting, 
thoughtful, free from the grind of the drill. 

If a class has completed the topic in history, "Causes of 
the War of 1812," there is no need of recasting the facts 
again in the same order in an attempt to give them perma- 
nence in the mind. To repeat "right of search," "impress- 
ment of American sailors," "interference with commerce," 
etc., deadens a topic that interested children before. But the 
review lesson is the teacher's salvation. We begin by asking, 
"Why was the War of 1812 called the war for industrial 
or business independence?" The children must recast all 
they know of the causes of the war and note that each cause 
was a commercial rather than a political one. We can go 
over these facts a third time and still maintain a freshness 
and an interest in them if we ask, "What are the differences 
between the causes of the War of 1812 and those of the Revo- 
lutionary War?" A review and a consideration of the causes 
of each war will show the industrial and commercial nature 
of the former and the political character of the latter. "How 
would you justify the statement, 'The War of 1812 was the 
second war of independence'?" is another central topic around 
which a review lesson can be given, and the important facts 
brought home without the tedium of the drill. 

In our early nature-study lessons we are told that in 
15 



218 Education as Mental Adjustment 

teaching an animal the order should be (1) recognition and 
name, (2) characteristic movements and actions, (3) color 
and parts, (4) food, (5) uses, (6) care of young, (7) home, 
etc. After an animal has been taught through this series 
of topics, little interest in it can be aroused in the children 
by repeating the string of topics to impress the facts 
on the mind. Instead of a drill try the review and center 
the lesson on, "What must I know if I am to make a pet of 
this animal?" To answer, the children must tell us to be 
sure to know its name, its behavior, its food, its home, its care 
of young, etc. Here the facts are brought up again, pre- 
sented in a new light, from a different aspect, and, although 
nothing new has been taught, the lesson elicits an interest. 
This, too, is a review, not a drill. 

The Essentials of a Good Review Lesson. — The review, 
we have just seen, differs markedly from the drill. Its pur- 
pose is better organization of material, deeper insight, and 
thought. The main characteristics of a review lesson are 
four: First, it seeks to emphasize the essentials only. It 
concerns itself with underlying principles. Second, it tries 
to present old material from a new aspect. It gives old 
knowledge from a new viewpoint. Third, the element of 
novelty in the review does not try to add new facts, but is 
designed to deepen the thought and give a more thorough 
grasp. Fourth, reviews should not be reserved for the end 
of a term or the conclusion of a large topic. A review is in 
order at the end of a sub-topic, at the conclusion of any im- 
portant point in a subject. 

The Essentials of a Good Drill Lesson. — Despite the strong 
case that can be made out in favor of the proper review, one 
must not speak disparagingly of the drill. It lias its limita 
tions, it usually brings with it a tedium which militates 
against its popularity and ability to interest, a monotony 
that makes it a pedagogical soporific. But the drill is abso- 
lutely essential. To neglect it means that the necessary basic 
facts will not "function as habit." With a little care and 
attention we can offset the adverse effects of the drill. At 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 219 

all times the drill lesson must have .two parts. First, there 
must be an explanatory period, in which the facts to be mem- 
orized and habituated are rationalized and justified to the 
mind. Second, the drill proper. 

A good drill has certain qualifications which must be in- 
corporated at all times. It must be motivated. Children 
must be made to feel a need for a perfect mastery and control 
of the facts. Let it be supposed that a drill is to be given 
on a table in arithmetic. In the explanatory part the teacher 
shows the children the units, inch, foot, yard, and, by direct- 
ing the children's activity, elicits that twelve inches equal 
one foot; three feet one yard, etc. With the table thus de- 
rived, mental examples are given out rapidly and the teacher 
calls for speedy solutions. The children are evidently not 
ready. But when the children are asked to explain we find 
that they can obtain the results if sufficient time is allowed. 
The pupils are asked to account for their inability to solve as 
rapidly as required, and they readily tell that this is due to 
a lack of familiarity with the items in the table. They are 
now asked to suggest a remedy and are thus led to see that 
the next logical step is the drill. The ensuing lesson will not 
become all-absorbing, but, because its need is felt, it becomes 
intelligent and rational. 

An additional means of counteracting the lifeless accom- 
paniments of the drill is to be careful of its technique. We 
hust infuse speed, call upon children promiscuously, vary 
he statements, and bring in the unexpected. 

Thoroughness. — Another means of introducing variety 

ato teaching is through thoroughness in presentation. But 

'ais, too, is a term much misused and abused. What do we 

lean by thoroughness? Arc we thorough when we have 

amassed a greater number of details? Is the class reading 

" Thanatopsis " more thorough when it takes up the meaning 

and derivation of every important word than the class that 

is interested only in the main theme and its development ? 

The answer seems to be decidedly negative. Thoroughness 

does not depend upon the number of details because the sum 



220 Education as Mental Adjustment 

total of the details will not make the subject. The subject 
is an outgrowth of the detail. If a child understands the 
individual lines of Longfellow's "Children's Hour," does 
he know the central thought and underlying lesson of the 
poem? Thoroughness does not mean emphasis on detail, 
but neglect of unrelated detail and emphasis on the main 
points. After the child has mastered one point of view, 
thoroughness demands that he be given another. The more 
points of view a child gets, the richer the lesson becomes, the 
more thorough is its development. 

In teaching the causes of the American Revolution to an 
eighth-year class, a more thorough presentation must be given 
than to sixth-year children. This does not mean that, in- 
stead of mentioning six acts which led up to the final break — 
the stamp act, navigation act, right of search, etc. — six more 
should be added, e. g., Hatters' Regulation, Prohibition of 
Nail Manufacture, etc. If this be done the point of view 
remains the same. The conclusion cannot be altered by these 
new data. To make the lesson more thorough the teacher 
should present to advanced pupils the English side of the con- 
troversy. For the first time the child will realize that the 
war was caused, not by sheer British cruelty and a fiendish 
delight in levying taxes, but by the fact that the colonists 
and the mother country happened to have opposite and irre- 
concilable views on what is meant by representative govern- 
ment. He will recognize, too, that the British stand was 
just as sincere as the Americans', and that there was con- 
siderable strength on their side. All this gives a new out- 
look and a new conclusion. To give another point of view 
makes the lesson more thorough. To merely add details to 
old material makes the lesson more cumbersome, but just 
as incomplete. 

An added point of view leaves the child better informed 
and with a more liberal conclusion. Thoroughness is there- 
fore qualitative, not quantitative. It is attained when we 
have grasped the main thought and the underlying princi- 
ples, when we have seen and understood the interrelations. 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 221 

It is intensive, not extensive. The proper interpretation of 
details gives the underlying principle, hence the vital point 
in thoroughness is to be sure that the details chosen are char- 
acteristic, typical, vivid, rather than numerous. The teacher 
who has presented a subject from as many viewpoints and 
has established as many associations as possible for the 
child's age has been as thorough as circumstances permit. 
Thoroughness is therefore a teaching condition which brings 
variety in its wake, and arouses that kind of interest which 
leads to thought, to effort, to a voluntary strain upon con- 
sciousness. 

III. The Principle of Novelty. — Instruction must be con- 
crete; it must present the problem of the lesson from the 
practical and the novel point of view. It is obvious that 
mere talk and abstractions are not only beyond the child's 
mind but are not calculated to gain attention and interest 
unless the child's games and toys are beyond recollection. 
For these reasons, teaching must be enlivened by experiments, 
blackboard drawing and diagrams, pictures, anecdotes, and 
the like. To a moderate extent, the spectacular and the un- 
expected must be presented. Although simple and obvious, 
this principle very often fails to receive application in cases 
and conditions that offer opportunities for such treatment. 

In teaching a masterpiece it is held that the life and the 
literary importance of the author are part of the work. 
Teachers usually begin the study of Julius Caesar with a life 
of Shakespeare. This is logical and natural, but not calcu- 
lated to gain interest. There is little or nothing in the lit- 
erary life that interests a boy. The warrior and the adven- 
turer have a fascination for him for reasons that are obvious. 
But there is little to really interest the average eighth-year 
pupil in the life of Shakespeare except that he was a poor 
boy who became famous. Then, too, a boy's respect for 
Shakespeare's achievements is none too great. He did little 
more than write books which the boy is compelled to study. 
But, instead of adopting this order, teach the masterpiece, or 
even a short literary selection, first. After the story has been 



222 Education as Mental Adjust mint 

properly read or told in the first reading, interest and en- 
t husiasm are at their highest. At the end of a first reading of 
"Julius Caesar," in which interest is centered in the story 
exclusively, the child experiences the same delight as in an 
alluring melodrama. After such a first reading we should 
study the life of Shakespeare, the poor boy, who, with so 
little education, learned to write such a wonderful story. To 
begin the study of a masterpiece with the author is to teach 
it from the adult point of view, to give the new and the un- 
expected first, means to see with the child's eyes, to feel as 
the young mind feels. 

The same principle applies to every physics lesson, yet 
many fail to see the opportunities for its embodiment in this 
work. A teacher, whose topic for the period with a seventh- 
year class was air pressure, began with a clear, well-developed 
explanation of the facts, the cause and extent of air pres- 
sure, the fifteen pounds to the square inch, etc., and finally 
described an experiment to illustrate the fact. But the pe- 
riod came to a close before the experiment was well on its 
way, for the children had consumed most of the time in note- 
taking. Instead of this order, the procedure should have 
been reversed. The end should have come at the beginning. 
The teacher should have brought into the room what the 
boys call a "sucker," a bit of rubber with a nail through the 
middle and a string attached to the outer end of the nail. 
The rubber is moistened, pressed hard against a window pane, 
and is thus held fast when the air is expelled. By pulling the 
cord the nail makes an aggravating sound against the glass, 
and the boy accomplishes Ins end — plaguing the unwary shop- 
keeper. Boys can be seen in the streets holding up stones 
of considerable weight by such a device. The teacher might 
have placed a card on a small wide-mouthed jar filled with 
water and then inverted it. The card slicks and the water 
does not spill ! 

In presenting the topic, "Center of Gravity, Stable and 
I nstable Equilibrium," much enthusiasm and dynamic in- 
terest can be aroused if the lesson is begun with the last step 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 223 

of the method whole, the "Application." A boy is called 
out to the front of the room and told to stand erect with 
feet together. The teacher pushes him and he topples over 
at once. He seems to show no resistance. A weaker boy is 
now called to the front. He is told to stand with feet apart. 
The teacher now pushes twice as hard but the lad resists very 
easily. Here is a fact useful in boxing and all forms of con- 
tests of strength. What is the principle that explains this 
phenomenon ? 

In beginning a lesson on levers, a teacher brought before 
the class a low wooden horse and a long board and arranged 
them in a "see-saw" game. He announced that "Mary," the 
smallest girl in the class, would lift "John," the heaviest 
boy. The contrast appeared ludicrous to the children. The 
boy and the girl were called out, and were made to take their 
places on the board after the teacher arranged it. As it was 
released, up went the boy's end and down the girl's. The 
merry faces lengthened with surprise. Genuine amazement 
followed mirth. The teacher need only add, "Why do these 
things behave in this way?" and he is repeating the question 
which every child is asking himself. With their natural in- 
terest of curiosity aroused, the teacher is controlling the 
children's efforts and activities. 

IV. The Teacher's Attitude Toward the Subject. — 
The teacher's enthusiasm is a factor which must not be neg- 
lected in enumerating the causes and means of interesting 
children. Interest is primarily an emotion. Emotion begets 
emotion ; interest is therefore contagious. Although one may 
not be scientifically inclined, association with a friend who 
is constantly manifesting such an interest soon finds one ask- 
ing questions and seeking explanations of scientific appli- 
cations. So, too, companionship with an artistic or an intel- 
lectual friend soon finds us duplicating the interests of 
our friends. These circumstances are only additional illus- 
trations of the principle of unconscious social imitation. The 
sincere interest of the teacher soon pervades and permeates 
every class-room activity. It is a common truism that a sin- 



L'lM Education as Mental Adjustment 

cere and enthusiastic teacher, however poor, can always arouse 
an interest in his or her favorite subject. The child soon 
catches the spirit and the thrill of life. But what more than 
listlessness and inattention can a teacher hope to arouse who 
cold-bloodedly and disinterestedly plods his way wearily 
through the lessons of the day! 

V. Motivation. — A final, but by no means unimportant, 
means of arousing an attitude of interest toward school work 
is the emphasis of the value of what is taught. The child may 
not consciously or deliberately ask the teacher, "What is the 
use of what we are learning?" He may not even confront 
himself with the question. But unconsciously the mind takes 
the inquisitive attitude of "what is this for?" Proper teach- 
ing must forestall this feeling by showing, where possible, the 
personal side of the work. If there is any one conclusion that 
can be drawn from the theoretic study of the subjective side 
of interest it is the statement that interest gives a feeling 
of a sense of worth ; that whatever appears to us as useful and 
necessary in society calls forth an expression of our self- 
activity and prompts to action, for interest is an active at- 
titude toward experience. In introducing an arithmetic, a 
geography, or a history lesson, the teacher must endeavor to 
indicate the practical, the real value of the contents of the 
subject taught. 

Many teachers will take issue with such advice. They 
take the lofty attitude of "knowledge for its own sake." But 
aside from its use in social life knowledge is worthless. The 
severest criticism that they can urge against the utilitarian 
view is that it is personal and individualistic. This is true, 
but it is not necessarily a view that is unsocial or in the least 
unmoral. To be useful docs not mean to lie remunerative in 
dollars and cents. A thing is useful because it gives pleas- 
ure, increases happiness, gives a broader and more liberal 
outlook. The utilitarian aspeel of knowledge guarantees a 
definite, practical standard by which to gauge the subjeet- 
naatter in the curriculum, and leads to the elimination of 
much that is unnecessary. 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 2_'5 

The conclusion for the teacher is obvious. Every lesson 
must begin with a conscious endeavor to show the child the 
need he has, personal or social, of the experience that is to 
be taught him. There must be a sincere attempt to motivate 
the task, to interpret it in terms of the child's urgent, active 
self. The pupil must know precisely and definitely why his 
attention, his whole mind, his very self, should be given to 
the teacher and the lesson. 

Application of the Principle of Motivation. — Can this 
doctrine of motivation be applied to the common, every-day 
school lesson? A few illustrations will serve to answer the 
question. 

Grammar Lesson: "The Present Participle." — The les- 
son being an introductory lesson on participles we concen- 
trate on the present participle. How can we motivate such 
a lesson? The answer is simple if one recalls that grammar 
finds its justification as a school subject primarily in the 
fact that it teaches us to use correctly forms of speech in 
which people often err. Begin, therefore, with the children's 
compositions. From the last week's work select a number 
of examples of short, crude sentences used in sequence, sen- 
tences that are childishly simple in looseness of style and 
structure. These are put on the blackboard. A composi- 
tion on Theodore Roosevelt provoked the following from a 
child : ' ' He saw the enemy. The Spaniard was making his 
escape. Colonel Roosevelt took careful aim. He fired upon 
the soldier." Read this to the class, somewhat slower than 
ordinarily, trying to emphasize the general clumsiness and 
the amateurish effect produced by these short sentences in se- 
quence. Now ask the children what adverse criticism they 
have to offer. Let us suppose that nothing offered is to the 
point. Recite a few lines of a typical beginner's reader, thus: 
"I see the cat. The cat is black. The black cat is fat." 
Now reread the sentences taken from the composition, and 
the criticism is elicited that the shortness of these sentences 
makes them too simple and childlike. What can be done? 
Combine them. Call for suggestions. The answers are varied. 



226 Education as Mental Adjustment 

"Theodore Roosevelt saw the enemy, who was trying to es- 
cape. He aimed his gun and fired." Suggest that "saw" 
can be changed to "seeing" and it can all be included in one 
sentence. Call for answers until the class gives, "Seeing the 
soldier, who was trying to escape, Roosevelt raised his gun 
and fired." Ask the children to compare the original four 
sentences with this new one. Treat two or three sets of sim- 
ple sentences in the same way, each time eliciting from them 
the superiority of the new construction. Now ask, "What 
word improved each of these groups of sentences?" The 
answer, the "ing" words, is easily obtained. "Why would 
it be valuable for us to know something more about them?" 
"Let us study them now." 

The lesson is therefore begun and developed after the 
child has seen the functions and the values of these new 
words. When the lesson is over, convince the children thai 
they were right in their estimate of these new words; give 
them their compositions, let them read them over and see 
where they can improve them by combining simple sentences 
through the use of a present participle. Every good gram- 
mar lesson should begin with, and end in, the compositions 
written by the children. 

Arithmetic Lesson: "Stocks and Bonds." — Arithmetic af- 
fords excellent illustrations of the principle under discussion. 
Here, tqo, motivation is simple, even in a topic as removed 
from the sphere of the child's experience as "Stocks and 
Bonds." To motivate, reproduce as nearly as possible the 
actual circumstances of life which make the use of stocks nec- 
essary. Imagine that child A 's father has two hundred dol- 
lars, TVs three hundred, C's six hundred. There is an un- 
usual opportunity for a business investment in the purchase 
of a factory for two thousand dollars. Wli.it shall we do? 
"Form a partnership." is readily suggested by some in the 
class. This is done and the children see that the total is only 
eleven hundred dollars. What do men actually do in busi- 
ness? The children do not know, but realize that this is a 
real condition in life that would find them helpless. As the 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 227 

teacher suggests the solution of this almost impossible puzzle, 
the children listen, for there is reason for their attention. 
The teacher then has the class write out sample shares, each 
valued at one hundred dollars, and thus the factory is divided 
into twenty parts. A's father buys two shares, B's three 
shares, and C 's six shares, each depositing two hundred, three 
hundred, and six hundred dollars, respectively. The three 
stockholders now go in search of people who will purchase the 
remaining nine shares and thus organize a company. Why 
will people invest? What will they receive if the factory 
turns out a success? What if it fails? etc., are questions 
whose discussion leads to the development of words and 
phrases like "par," "at a premium," "dividend," "at a 
discount," etc. The company should actually be organized 
in class, shares sold at par, and dividends declared. Little 
need be said directly to the class about the need of this 
knowledge. The fact that we are actually organizing a com- 
pany in class, buying and selling shares, reproducing life as 
it is, is sufficient to impress upon the child the utility of 
the topic. 

Manual Training: "The Making of a Dovetail Joint." — 
Let us turn to a subject so entirely different as manual train- 
ing. If the teacher is anxious to teach his class in woodwork 
how to make a particular joint he can give out necessary wood, 
explain how the material must be measured, how the tools 
used, what general precautions are necessary, and then let the 
children proceed. Ask the children what they are doing and 
they can reproduce instructions fairly well. Ask them why 
they are making such a joint and they have no reason. The 
order has been given from him on high and theirs is not "to 
reason why," but to "do or die." This is a fair illustration 
of the average school motive, blind execution with obedience 
prompted by fear. 

Change the character of the lesson. Instead of making 
a joint of two bits of wood to illustrate a technicality in man- 
ual work, let the children begin by making an article they 
deem necessary; for example, "a picture frame." The wood 



228 Education as Mental Adjustment 

is measured and the work planned. As they try to make one 
part fast to the other the teacher shows his model, its perfect 
and easy fit. Let him ask, "What is our next step?" and he 
will receive the prompt answer, "Cut such a joint as is 
shown." " Can you do so ? " The answer is negative. Hence 
the teacher suggests that the frame be put aside for this les- 
son and attention be given to this necessary technicality. Ask 
the children now why they are cutting up two pieces of wood 
and cutting into them a joint, and they will readily tell you 
how necessary this practice work is for the construction of 
their frame. How changed is their attitude toward the lesson 
now that they are actuated by real motive and perceive the 
need of this experience ! 

Advantages of Motivating a Lesson. — This method of mo- 
tivation can be carried over to all subjects. What teaching 
advantages will the teacher find who begins by convincing 
his pupils of the need they have for the experience he is to 
give them? 

1. The task is rationalized. Every assignment, every lesson 
has meaning and vitality when interpreted in terms of 
life's needs. The subject-matter, the teacher, the school 
are no longer necessary evils whose sole object seems to 
be to rob youth of its pleasures. 

2. The child does not apply himself because blind obedience 
has been instilled into him. There is a willing application 
to the work at hand, for it is deemed necessary in future 
adjusl incut. 

The child who works because a motive is perceived feels 
no fear as the reason for his application. Where children 
can see no need and no use of what is given them, they re- 
fuse to exert themselves for the end. W they do, it is be- 
cause it is perfectly evident to them that the teacher is 
the absolute master and his word is law. Pear for the 
consequences makes the children realize that obedience is 
the surest means of minimizing the pressure of the school 
and its tasks. 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 229 

3. The problems of interest and attention are solved when 
the child works because he perceives a need. What teacher 
will ever receive the concentration, the close and tireless 
application, the complete mind, the all-absorbing interest 
which the child evinces in solving the manual difficulties 
in the course of building a snow fort? When the experi- 
ence we offer our children in the school is made as real 
and as necessary in the child's existence as the prob- 
lems which arise naturally in the outside activities in 
which he is engaged, then will school lessons receive the 
same serious, constructive mental activity that is bestowed 
upon the snow fort, the building of a wagon, or the repair 
of an old air rifle. 

75 Motivation a Panacea for All Pedagogical Ills? — Since 
motivation in teaching brings all these invaluable advantages, 
is it not a panacea for all pedagogical ills ? Is it not a peda- 
gogical patent medicine remedy, guaranteed to remove all 
class-room ailments and teaching difficulties? There are limi- 
tations to the use of motivation that are serious and worthy 
of consideration. Let us turn to them. 

1. It is not possible to evoke in the child a motive for 
all school tasks. The child has seen little of life and has 
had no real vital experiences with life's needs. It is fre- 
quently possible to base the lesson on the life of the child 
and reflect its use to him now or in the inevitable future. 
But suppose this cannot be done, what then? His teachers 
know that his future life will present needs for this specific 
experience, but because the child is a child, because all he 
knows of the world is limited to what his last five or six years 
have brought him, he does not deem it necessary. Shall the 
teacher dismiss the lesson on that account? What motive 
can we give the child for learning seventy-five per cent, of 
the facts of history, facts that are old, dead, moss-covered? 
The adult realizes that, though the facts may be past, 
they are not dead. They show the traditions, the spirit, 
the strivings, the yearnings in our national growth. To un- 



230 Education as Mental Adjustment 

derstand America and Americanism to-day we must look 
at the present through the glasses furnished by the past. The 
child cannot be made to see this. Shall we therefore omit all 
of the history of the past? 

What motive can be aroused in children for learning sixty 
per cent, of the facts concerning the location of rivers, moun- 
tains, capes, plateaus? Their world is a narrow one, limited 
by their physical environment. The possibilities of the pleas- 
ure of future travel are too vague to serve as a present mo- 
tive. 

What need can be shown the child for paying attention to 
the early parts of grammar? It is a comparatively simple 
matter to reflect the use of grammar when the advanced work 
is taken up. All of that part of the subject can be applied. 
But what motive can be established for teaching the preposi- 
tion, the declarative, or the imperative sentence to beginners 
in grammar? 

The problem simply reduces itself to one of didactic 
teaching, viz., the need of obeying and learning because the 
teacher, in his superior wisdom, deems the subject necessary. 
This reason, though not a motive, must suffice. Myra Kelly 
tells of a Jewish lad who worked in the East Side sweat shops 
pulling out stitches from finished garments. The lad was 
paid by the amount he pulled, so much for each dozen. One 
day he became suspicious of his employer's arithmetic and, 
fearing that he was being underpaid, decided to go to school 
and learn to add pay slips on "finished pants" during the 
so-called "slack season." In due time the lad made his ap- 
plication to the clerk of a public school and, although older 
in years than the average child in the first year, was put 
with them as their equals intellectually. The first lesson of 
the day, music and opening exercise, he bore with some pa- 
tience, although not without disappointment. Evidently the 
teachers wanted to give them "enjoyings" before work be- 
gan. Manual training came next. This was followed by 
a calisthenic drill. The patience of our little "baistin'- 
puller" was taxed to a point beyond endurance. He rose in 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 231 

his wrath and announced his intentions of leaving the insti- 
tution where learning was so shamed. The teacher tried to 
argue, but the lad refused to stay for a further waste of 
time. "I came to learn how to add checks on the pants, not 
to make with the hands and the feet," was his plea. We 
know that it is exceedingly important to "make with the 
hands and the feet," but we cannot always show our children 
the reason. The matter reduces itself to the simple dictum, — 
the children must learn to bend to authority and obey, even 
if they cannot see the need in their limited lives. 

2. Very often motive can be shown, but the creation of 
the conditions that would make motive arise would produce 
an artificiality similar to learning because of authority. 
Thus, the functionalists would teach no word in spelling that 
the child has not misspelled in his composition or his letter. 
Before any word can be taught, therefore, it would be neces- 
sary to have an exercise in which the child is led to misspell 
it. If we are going to teach division of one fraction by an- 
other we must have the conditions arise where it becomes nec- 
essary for the child to divide one fraction by another. Sup- 
pose the condition does not arise? Then have a construction 
exercise in which it becomes necessary for the child to lay 
out four and one-half inches into eighteen parts; required 
to find the dimensions of one part. If the condition arises 
naturally, no better beginning is possible in motivating such 
a topic. But to force an unnatural condition to arise to make 
a topic seem necessary, produces an artificiality no better 
than teaching without motivation. 

3. To hold that all lessons must be supplied with a mo- 
tive is to forget that the mind is naturally acquisitive, that 
it craves for expansion, for enrichment of content. The in- 
stinct of curiosity is too well developed in children to need 
elaboration here. It explains why children pay attention 
to facts that often bore us, why they listen with open mouths 
and staring eyes as we narrate the stories of history, despite 
the fact that they have no perceptions of their need. 

4. Too great a use of motivation is dangerous because it 



232 Education as Mental Adjustment 

may lead to an overemphasis of the material aspect of human 
needs. It may forget that there is a purely aesthetic factor 
in life that craves satisfaction. If we are to teach only those 
experiences whose needs we can show as arising in the child's 
life, then why teach ancient folklore, with its interesting and 
beautiful mythology ? Why teach literature ? Why music 
and drawing? We must not forget that there is a spiritual 
ego that is to be fostered and nurtured. There are instinctive 
cravings and longings that must be satisfied, even if we can- 
not show the definite, concrete, specific need. 

Principles Governing the Stimulation of Effort 

Turning to the other side of the problem we ask, "How 
can the teacher train the child in the use of effort?" In 
our endeavor to see their mutual supplementary nature, we 
treated effort and interest together, as the beginning and the 
end of the same activity. But, aside from the question of in- 
terest, we know that the ability to exert effort, to concentrate, 
to put a strain upon consciousness often becomes a separate 
and independent problem, when a sheer necessity must be ac- 
complished. How can we help the child to cultivate its power 
of exertion, and train him to use effort when the pressure of 
the occasion demands it? 

I. Appeal to Mediate Rather Than Immediate Interests. — 
Psychology distinguishes between mediate and immediate in- 
terests. An interest in which the desire and the end are 
wrapped up in one is called an immediate interest. Thus, 
playing a game, enjoying a picture, listening to a clever tale 
or to a bit of gossip, are in themselves pleasurable. When the 
end is not in the desire, but comes after it, we have mediate 
interest. In the attainment of a goal we have a process and 
an end. When we must go through an uninteresting process 
in order to attain a desired end, we have mediate interest. 
The child who learns his letters or his phonies to be able to 
read the interesting stories that his teacher tells the class is 
actuated by a mediate interesl ; so, too, is the child who stud- 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 233 

ies to procure a good report card or the music lover who en- 
dures the tedium of patient practice to develop ability in the 
use of his instrument, or the artist who goes through years of 
drudgery for the necessary technique. 

The Herbartian education teaches that we must waken 
mediate interest by setting up goals which are attractive. 
The sculptor works with assiduity and perseverance to create 
that which is an objective and tangible embodiment of his 
ideal of beauty. The teacher can make the child duplicate 
this persistent effort by holding out a reward, the attainment 
of success and distinction, the acquisition of something useful 
as goals toward which the pupil should learn to strain his 
faculties. The more attractive the goal the greater is the 
exertion of the will toward its achievement. To emphasize 
the value and the need of knowledge as was suggested is 
hence a means of setting before the child a desirable end 
whose attainment is spelled out in terms of effort. 

II. Limit the Time for Assigned Tasks. — When work is 
given in the class room it should be assigned so as to demand 
the maximum concentration on the part of the child. Bagley, 
in his "Educative Process," says, "The capacity for work 
is the capacity for sustained effort, it means concentration, 
organization, and permanency of purpose. The intense de- 
sire for activity is not in itself sufficient. Children and sav- 
ages possess this alike. Not activity alone but sustained 
and directed activity has been the keynote of human prog- 
ress." Hence, he urges that there must be no day in the 
class room in which the child is not compelled to give his en- 
tire undivided attention to some definite work. 

How can this be carried out in class-room practice? 
Wherever possible set a time limit and hold the child respon- 
sible for the accomplishment of a reasonable amount of work 
in a given period. To give an examination and allow as much 
time as is wanted defeats one of its important aims: the cul- 
tivation of undivided attention. The child works conscien- 
tiously through the first quarter of the paper, then he gazes 
about, or perhaps at his neighbor's paper; if his genius for 
16 



234 Education as Mental Adjustment 

mischief is aroused his seat mate will soon be disturbed. After 
every answer or two he takes this relief. Not only should 
every examination have a time limit, but it should allow no 
margin. To complete the work the child must, for the time 
being, shut out the memory of games and sports from his 
mind and apply himself to his assignment. 

In arithmetic lessons it is a common practice to give out 
one or two examples to the class and then wait until almost 
every child has completed them before proceeding with the 
explanation. The "A" children take about one-half the time 
of the "C" and "D" pupils. While waiting, those who are 
well behaved as well as bright put their hands behind their 
backs and straighten up into a painfully unnatural position, 
ready to receive a word of commendation or an extra mark 
in conduct. Those who are bright but are not good have, of 
course, active minds, full of ideas and schemes. Usually 
these work themselves out in action and the discipline 
of the class is disturbed. Our conception of discipline and 
teaching is surely above the "hands-behind" stage. The 
bright children should not be placed on a par with their 
slower classmates and be forced to waste half of the arith- 
metic period. If the children are placed in groups we can 
assign examples numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, to "A," numbers 1, 2, 3 
to "B," and numbers 1, 2 to "C" and "D." Each child's 
time is well occupied, there is no opportunity for the mis- 
chief which idle minds discover or the ease which the shift- 
less covet. Each child must give maximum concentration to. 
the assigned task. Exercises of this kind tend to make 
"buckling down" a habit. 

James advises, "Keep the faculty of effort alive by a 
little gratuitous exercise every day. Do, every day or two, 
something, for no other reason than its difficulty, so that when 
the hour of dire need draws nigh it may find you not un- 
nerved and unstrained to stand the test." 

III. Appeal to the Child's Love to Meet Difficulties. — 
The teacher should make constant appeal to the innate crav- 
ing to overcome obstacles and to enjoy the glory of success. 



How to Arouse Interest and Effort 235 

Difficulties which tax our ingenuity, but which show some 
chance of solution, attract us. Therefore such difficulties, 
which the child realizes are within the pale of his capabil- 
ities, must constantly be presented to him, because they 
prompt severe and sincere effort. It may be that this is a 
purely egotistical feeling, and the joy of success is only the 
pleasure of personal glorification. But it is nevertheless 
true that he who is ever ready to meet life's emergencies is 
the real hero. Ability to measure up to life's sterner needs 
is the measure of man 's worth in the game of life. 

Conclusion. — Interest then is the lubricator in the pro- 
cess of adjustment. Effort is the impelling force that takes 
us over obstacles and makes progress the result of our 
activities. Interest coupled with effort introduces an ele- 
ment of play into our work and makes for the highest effi- 
ciency in teaching. 



SUGGESTED READING 

Adams. Herbartian Psychology Applied to Education, Chap. 10. 

Arnold. Attention and Interest. 

De Garmo. Interest and Education. 

Dewey. Interest as Belated to Will. 

Fitch. The Art of Securing Attention. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 28. 

James. Talks to Teachers, Chap. 11. 

Ostermann. Interest in Its Relation to Pedagogy. 

Ribot. Psychology of Attention. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chap. 7. 

Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chaps. 5 and 7. 



B. THE INTELLECTUAL ASPECT OF THE MIND 



INTRODUCTORY 

Intellectual Development 

Our study has, thus far, conceived the mind as a vast 
storehouse of mental energy with inherent tendencies in 
definitely fixed directions. This is the basic conception in 
the theory of self-activity and the explanation of mental de- 
velopment and education as a process of realizing possibil- 
ities from within, not by introducing conditions and knowl- 
edge from without. Although worded differently, this view 
agrees with Davidson's conception of education as a "process 
of transforming the original nature of man into his ideal 
nature." 

The mental phenomena of which the mind is capable can 
be grouped under two heads, (1) those which occur with 
little or no intervention of the individual's consciousness and 
require almost no conscious direction, and (2) those that are 
the result of consciously determined action and therefore 
demand conscious direction. In the former consciousness 
of purpose is marginal, in the latter it is focal or central. 
To the first class belongs the discussion of instincts as in- 
born tendencies toward particular ends, and of the common 
educational forms such as imitation, emulation, interest, and 
effort. We must now turn to the latter phase of mind, that of 
conscious mental activity. The succeeding topic is hence a 
study of the intellectual aspect. 

Meaning of Intellectual Education. — A common definition 
of the education of the intellect is the development of the 
mind's power to know the truth. The intellect was designated, 
in an earlier reference, as the selective agent in life. Its 
function is therefore to differentiate right from wrong, just 

239 



240 Education as Mental Adjustment 

from unjust, to indicate the path that leads to our best wel- 
fare and development. But this definition, though not 
faulty, is insufficient, unless we add to this selective function 
another, viz., the acquisition of knowledge. The natural, if 
not the basic, function of the intellect is to acquire knowl- 
edge, to bring to each individual the facts necessary for a 
complete life. The acquired, or second, function of the intel- 
lect is really a result of education, viz., an ability to ascertain 
the truth, the exactness, the validity or the correctness of 
meaning of that knowledge which the intellect has acquired. 
In other words, the intellect first perceives the experiences 
in the outside world, then it proceeds to enrich them, read- 
ing meaning and significance into them as well as out of 
them. First to perceive the world, then to make the per- 
ceived world the conceived, that is the complete scope of the 
intellect's office. The intellect then is the selective agent in 
life, giving us our necessary knowledge and adding richness 
and fullness to our psychic content. 

Aims in Intellectual Development. — In instruction the 
teacher endeavors to make an appeal to the intellectual 
activities of the mind. The results are many and varied. 
But from a more definite point of view he seeks to leave the 
child rich in his treasure of (1) knowledge, (2) power, and 
(3) skill. What does each of these aims include? Knowl- 
edge seeks to give us the facts necessary for complete living 
and enables us to better adjust ourselves to an ever-changing 
and often hostile environment. Power is necessary to gain 
control of those forces which lead to new and original knowl- 
edge and possessions. Skill completes the trinity, by making 
us dextrous in the manipulation of power and knowledge, 
so that they may best subserve our most vital needs and 
interests. To tell a child that Pike's Peak is 12,365 feet 
high is to give him knowledge; to show him that twelve is 
the number of months in the year, and three hundred and 
sixty-five the days, gives skill in handling the fact; but to 
show the child where to find such material, so that he need 
not burden his mind with needless data, is to add to his 



Introductory 241 

power. Show the child the law of proportion and you have 
increased his stock of facts; require him to solve a great 
number of examples and you have given him the skill which 
reduces the problem to a mere mechanism which he solves in 
little time; but let him grasp the meaning of ratio, the simi- 
larity between it and a fraction, and you have added to his 
power, for now he can evolve the law of proportion himself, 
should he forget the mechanical rule. 

Relative Importance of Knowledge, Power, and Skill. — 
To stop for a moment to enquire which is the most important 
member of the triple aim is not a purely academic pro- 
cedure. Its answer will be a standard of measuring methods 
of teaching, for that method which serves the highest aim 
must in the very nature of the case be considered the best, 
while that one which makes its appeal to the lowest must 
be judged accordingly. Knowledge we may call the primary 
aim of teaching, for here the school tries to give the child 
that heritage which nature would otherwise give through 
instincts, intuition, or experience. The individual is the re- 
cipient of a treasure, which is the result of the trials and 
tribulations of others. Idle taking, mere receiving, does not 
stand high in the scale of life. Skill we may call the 
economic or efficient aim, for it endeavors to enable the in- 
dividual to attain the greatest result at the expense of the 
least effort. Energy and vitality are thus saved; a greater 
surplus of energy is thus reserved for further striving and 
greater accomplishments. Skill thus makes for economy and 
efficiency in human endeavor. Power we may call the final 
aim, for, in its attempt to give the individual the control of 
those forces which lead to new and original data, it seeks 
to make the individual self-directing, mentally independent, 
and self-sufficient. It tries to elevate him from the place of 
mere follower and receiver to that of initiator and discoverer. 
We may well ask, "Does our modern school not err in its 
disproportionate emphasis on study and teaching?" In the 
usual five hours of the daily session one finds four and 
one-half devoted to direct instruction and only one-half to 



242 Education as Mental Adjustment 

systematic study. This shows an emphasis on knowledge 
rather than power, a lack of a clear perception of the instruc- 
tional ideal, to make the child independent of the teacher. 

These three aims of instruction with this estimate of thpir 
relative importance are modern in educational conception. 
Older education could not agree on the proper and propor- 
tionate emphasis to be given to each of these. Hence, it 
either emphasized knowledge, fact acquisition, on the one 
hand, and gave rise to the Acquisition School, or it sought 
to present all those forms of knowledge the learning of 
which would tend to strengthen the powers of the child's 
mind, and thus became responsible for the Disciplinary 
School, whose sole desideratum is mental development. The 
one did not see that a fact apart from its use, a fact which 
does not contribute to our needs, has little to commend it in 
an educational system. The other failed to realize that 
power and discipline could not be acquired aside from sub- 
ject-matter, and, even if they could, power inapplicable is 
empty, it is blind energy going to waste, functioning for 
naught. The two aims are interlinked and part of the same 
process of instruction, for each loses its value when alone. 
It is for this reason that we view the aim of teaching as an 
inseparable composite of knowledge, skill, and power. 



CHAPTER XV 

PERCEPTION: HOW DOES THE MIND ACQUIRE ITS 
KNOWLEDGE? 

Psychological Basis of Perception. — All our information of 
the outside world comes through the sense organs. These 
bring us the materials upon which the self-activity reacts 
and which it works up into knowledge. It is for this reason 
that the old psychologists called the sense organs "the gates 
to consciousness," "the windows of the soul," or by other 
figures of a similar nature. A sense organ is a modified and 
specialized development especially adapted for the reception 
of excitations from without. Thus the eye is designed to re- 
ceive the changes in the ether waves, the ear the wave mo- 
tions in the air, the skin changes in temperature and 
pressure. Each sense organ transmits its peculiar excitation 
to its center in the brain, along afferent nerves which carry 
incoming messages. When the stimulation reaches its 
respective brain center, the mind becomes conscious of the 
changes in the outside environment. The result is a sensa- 
tion. Psychologically speaking, then, the sense organs bring 
impressions of the outside world ; the stimulations which ac- 
company these, result in sensations ; but the reaction of the 
mind upon these, the simplest interpretation or recognition of 
the stimulations, results in percepts. Let us see the differ- 
ences for education between sensation and perception. 

Sensation. Perception. 

1. Simplest psychic re- 1. Outward reference of 

action to the stimulation of a sensation. It is the pro- 
an afferent nerve. cess of localizing sensations 

and referring them to their 



outside cause. 



243 



244 Education as Mental Adjustment 

2. Gives only a sense im- 2. Gives knowledge of the 
pression. world. 

3. A mere feeling of 3. A comprehension and 
consciousness. recognition. 

4. Mind passive. 4. Mind active. 

5. Difficult to recall. 5. Easy to recall. 

6. "Acquaintance with 6. "Knowledge of ob- 
objects." jects." 

Because sensations are so extremely simple psychically 
and give no knowledge, we do not concern ourselves with 
them in education. As a matter of fact, just as soon as we 
become conscious of our sensations they are no longer sensa- 
tions, but rather percepts. A pure sensation is practically 
an impossibility with a mind beyond the infant stage. Hence 
the problem of perception is the essential starting point for 
the teacher. 

Influence of the Psychology of Perception on Teaching. — 
Modern psychological knowledge of perception has had a 
marked influence on methods of teaching. Old teaching made 
its appeal only to the eye and the ear, through words, spoken 
or written. Most teaching was from the book and by didactic 
explanation. Science was taught from the printed page with- 
out experimentation, illustration or objects. Many of us can 
recollect how we were taught the tables of weights and 
measures. The page on which these were printed was given 
by the teacher and then memorized verbatim through repe- 
tition ; an education of words. The next step in the progress 
of teaching demanded an appeal to the eye and the sense of 
touch. This brought a change in the old order of teach- 
ing. We have learned to show the pint and the gill measure, 
to have the children actually empty the one into the other 
and establish for themselves the relationship, "4 gills = 1 
pint." In this manner the children find the necessary items 
of the entire table. To-day, therefore, the order of teach- 
ing is "things, thoughts, words," whereas in the preceding 
method the child learned the "words" in the table, then 



Perception 245 

applied them in examples and got the "thoughts," but rarely, 
if ever, did he see the "things." We realize to-day that the 
units must be brought into the class, that the tables whose 
units cannot be shown concretely should not be taught in the 
elementary school. In the past we were content with dis- 
cussing the units and waiting until the child in his later ex- 
perience would meet them. 

This new tendency in teaching, to appeal to more than 
one sense, accounts for the change in style of the old text- 
books with their dull, uninteresting, pictureless pages, to the 
modern illustrated editions, which were first published only 
a generation ago. In arithmetic we find not only an explana- 
tion of the processes but that examples of the type of "% 
of my money=$1.60, how much have I?" are solved by the 
aid of a diagram. The child does more than repeat in parrot 
fashion "if % of the money=$1.60 then i/ 5 is 14 of it." 
He must actually see this relation and show it graphically. 
Our grammar, too, shows this same influence, for analyzing 
by diagram, practically unknown a generation ago, is now 
used almost universally in preference to the long, involved 
written analysis. So far have we developed in our knowl- 
edge of perception that our ideal to-day is to appeal to as 
many gates to consciousness as possible, for the more senses 
that contribute to a percept, the richer, the greater in mean- 
ing, the deeper in content, and the more lasting will it be. 

An avenue to consciousness, extremely useful and valu- 
able, but much neglected, is the muscular sense, the feeling 
accompanying all muscular movement. A percept is a fusion 
of more than the five senses of which we commonly speak. A 
very important contribution is offered by the muscular im- 
pression that is known in psychology as the kinesthetic 
sense. The greatest part of our physical being is made up 
of muscle. Every movement, therefore, entails a muscular 
sensation. These muscular sensations accompanying a move- 
ment stay in the mind and are just as important elements, 
if not far more so, in the formation of a percept than many 
of the others coming from other senses. This explains why 



246 Education as Mental Adjustment 

some people remember spelling only when they write it, not 
when they repeat it over and over again. Children who in- 
variably fail in their attempts to learn a memory selection 
often show marked improvement when told to write it as well 
as to con it over. 

There are many who hold that visualization is the surest 
method of learning to write a language. If the child can be 
made to see the word with his eyes shut, then the spelling 
will be remembered. But a blind person can be made to spell 
very readily, provided we allow him to trace the letters in 
the air or on a surface. From actual experimentation we 
know that the kinesthetic or muscular element is a most im- 
portant sense contribution with very many people. Since 
spelling would not be necessary if we did not write and is 
of almost no importance in reading we must teach spelling 
by writing, by making its execution habitual. Hence when 
children have spelled a new word in concert they have made 
the least important appeal. Each new word should be writ- 
ten a number of times in the air and on paper, for the object 
is to habituate the writing of the word, not the "calling off" 
of its letters. Children who can spell words orally with great 
ease and speed often hesitate when asked to write the word. 
Children who can write the word without thought or trouble, 
but who hesitate in spelling orally, are nevertheless good 
spellers. 

The muscular sense is important for other reasons. We 
say that every impression should be followed by a correspond- 
ing expression because the expression deepens the impression. 
This is true because in all forms of motor expression we 
the added sensation of movement. Then, also, in the use of 
any of the senses the muscular sense is inevitably involved. 
In using the eye, the ear, the sense of touch, movement of 
some kind is an accompaniment. Hence the kinesthetic sen- 
sations are wrapped up in all the others and become basic 
in them.. Dramatization in history and literature is another 
means of trying to bring this added sense into the composite 
of meaning. Objective leaching then means qo1 an appeal to 



Perception 247 

a sense but to all the senses with a particular attempt to 
utilize the muscular one. Because of the richness and per- 
manency of a percept resulting when all the gates to con- 
sciousness have been opened, "appeal to as many senses as 
possible in all teaching" has become a basic and oft-quoted 
law. 

Meaning of Sense Training. — Since the senses are basic in 
knowledge getting, we often hear the expression, "education 
must train the senses.". . ."Manual training, drawing, kinder- 
garten work, music and the like are valuable because they 
train the senses." What is meant by the expression, "sense 
training"? The usual superficial answer makes this mean 
an improvement of the eye, the ear, the tactile organ, etc. 
Manifestly this is absurd, for this is impossible and far from 
the scope of the teacher's work. It is the function of the 
physician or of nature. In education, "sense training" does 
not mean improving the sense organ, but refers rather to 
an improvement of the mind, to an enhancement of its in- 
terpreting ability, so that whatever the sense organs bring 
will mean more than heretofore. By training the ear, we 
mean giving it practice in listening to music, so that in the 
future it will not be the ear that will become a better organ, 
but the mind that will become quicker in detecting differences 
in tone. The person who cannot match colors finds after 
practice, such as is given in the kindergarten, that he can 
more readily discriminate shades of difference in one color. 
His eye, the sense organ, is no better than it was before, but 
the mind has been trained to react more surely, accurately, 
and speedily as a result of the exercise. 

Causes of Better Interpretation. — It would be wrong to 
say that there is no physical change in sense training. There 
is, but the change is in the brain structure rather than in the 
sense organ itself. Since each sense has its own respective 
center in the brain we must seek the changes there. The 
causes for this improved interpretation following sense train- 
ing are three ; their natures may be physical or mental. 

1. The brain cells are enlarged and thus become capable 



248 Education as Mental Adjustment 

of better and more efficient work. Just as exercise enlarges 
the cells of the muscles, so, too, repeated appeals and exer- 
cises in interpreting what its sense organs bring, enlarge the 
cells in the sense centers. A large cell is a more capable agent 
for work. 

2. Sense training quickens the reaction of the nerve cells, 
because of repeated actions of a similar nature in the train- 
ing process. The reason is obvious. Use and repetition make 
each succeeding action more facile. The child who first learns 
to manipulate the strings of the violin is slow and clumsy. 
With practice the cells in the finger muscles acquire a plas- 
ticity, a specialized sensitivity which makes them respond to 
the same stimulation ever so much faster. Exactly such an 
effort is produced in the brain. Because the same kind of 
stimulations are brought to the same sense center, its cells 
attain the power of speedy and easy reactions. 

3. In all sense training mental associations between the 
experience and its interpretation are formed, so that no 
sooner do we present the sound, the color, the form, to the 
senses than its interpretation or meaning is instantly called 
up because of the intimate connection established. The per- 
son who was never in the woods hunting game finds himself 
at a great disadvantage in the beginning. But after practice 
and training for a considerable period, his mind is more 
active and alert, the brain reactions occur faster, so that the 
mere rustling in the trees, a squeaking sound, or the noise of 
crushing of dried leaves will, by associations formed, bring up 
the habitual cause, the animal. The mind is thus in a state 
of habitual expectancy; this mental preadjustment makes him 
see where the inexperienced cannot, hear intelligently sounds 
meaningless to the unpracticed ear. Hence sense training, 
because of these two brain changes and this mental associa- 
tion, results in the acquisition of better mental powers for 
the interpretation of what the senses gather in the outside 
world. 

Why Should the School Give Sense Training? — Sense train- 
ing is an important and much emphasized topic in our 



Perception 249 

educational literature to-day. But it is by no means new. 
The sense realists form an exceedingly important group in 
the history of education, for in the beginning of the seven- 
teenth century we find Mulcaster beginning a series of names 
that later includes Bacon, Ratke, Comenius, Locke, Rousseau, 
Pestalozzi, and Froebel. They insisted that knowledge should 
be derived chiefly from the senses, that the subject-matter 
of education should be natural rather than artificial, that 
concrete objective nature rather than the formalism of lan- 
guage should become the basis of the curriculum, that the 
school should train the power of perception of the realities 
rather than load the memory with facts and achievements of 
the remote past. The demands for sense training, whether in 
the past or in the present, are based upon a number of rea- 
sons; an examination of them in detail may help in realiz- 
ing its importance. Why then should we give sense training ? 

1. An education of the senses deepens knowledge, and 
gives a more exact and truer insight into it. Sully, in his 
"Teachers' Handbook of Psychology," says, "Distinct and 
sharply defined impressions are the first conditions for imagi- 
nation and exact thinking." This quotation emphasizes (a) 
that sense perceptions are the basis of knowledge, (b) the 
more accurate our perceptions, the more accurate our knowl- 
edge. We often trace faulty judgments and reasoning to 
faulty perceptions. This we can see in almost any class in 
the teaching of many of our school subjects. A few class- 
room experiences may serve to clarify the point and bring 
conviction to the student. 

Children who can find the volume of a cube, of a room, 
the cubical contents of a bin, the cost at x dollars per bushel 
if it measures 12 x 9i/o x 6*4 feet, were asked ' ' How many 
edges will a cubic block whose contents is 1 cubic foot have?" 
Only sixteen and two-thirds per cent, knew positively. They 
were then asked to show the length of an edge of such a 
cube. The answers varied from six or seven inches to a dis 
tance limited only by the utmost reach of the children 's arms. 
Only forty per cent, were correct. When asked how many feet 
If 



250 Education as Menial Adjustment 

there were hi the width of the blackboard, only twenty-five per 
cent were approximately correct. These results are poor but 
far from exceptional ; they are more or less typical. An order 
like "Draw, free hand, a line about uine inches long" given 
to a fifth year class will show amazingly incorrect judgments 
to those unfamiliar with such results. Children who solve 
a problem like "Find the number of cords of wood in a pile 
of timber 33 feet G inches x 5 feet 4 inches x 5 feet" 
cannot go to a corner of the room and chalk out a space on 
the walls and floor that would be occupied by a cord of 
wood. Over eighty per cent, of a 6A class had no idea of 
the approximate size of a cord, yet all knew that a cord 
of wood is one hundred twenty-eight cubic feet. Ques- 
tions like "would this room hold a cord of wood?" brought 
only confusion and guesses. Some would not even commit 
themselves on the question "would a cord fill the assembly- 
room?" "One hundred twenty-eight cubic feet" were words, 
empty sounds with no sense percepts back of them. Of 
what use can such knowledge be? It means nothing to chil- 
dren. The answer, found after long, tedious multiplication 
and division, is a hollow result attained after a stupid process 
of solution. The child who gives it is placed in the position 
of the ass in the lion's skin, for he is speaking in a language 
foreign to him. 

It is safe to say that more than fifty per cent, of the chil- 
dren who are to-day computing examples in mensuration, 
papering, plastering, finding areas and volumes of all kinds, 
are indulging in incorrect judgments, and have no perception 
of the units they are juggling. What we need before solving 
these long, meaningless examples are drills like the following, 
designed to make knowledge real: "Hold your ruler between 
your finger tips, drop it, notice the distance between the two 
fingers. Keep this distance, measure the width of the desk, 
of the seat, their height from the ground, etc. Place the 
ruler in front of you on the desk, have your forefingers 
touch; slowly separate them until the distance equals a foot!" 
This should be repeated a number of times for the muscular 



Perception 251 

sensation. Having appealed to all the senses that we can. 
we ask, "How many times will the ruler be contained in the 
length or width of the teacher's desk, of the blackboard, of 
the height of the window, of that door, etc.?" Let the chil- 
dren guess at first, and then teacher and children actually 
verify by measuring. Measure one or two objects in this way 
each day. Teachers who have not tried this will be surprised 
at the improvement in judgment. The reason is obvious ; 
the perceptual basis is there, many gates to consciousness 
have been opened. 

So, too, before solving the number of cords of wood in a 
woodshed X x Y x Z feet, the child should be made to 
see that a pile 8x4x4 feet is a cord; an oblong 8x4 feet 
is chalked out on a corner of the floor and a height of 4 feet 
is indicated on the wall. Let the child see how many seats 
would have to be removed to place a cord of wood in the 
vacated space. Such drills would make a cord a fact, not an 
imaginary quantity. 

A child should be given the height of his school, of two 
or three common buildings in the city. Thus, knowing that 
the Singer Building is a little over six hundred feet in height, 
he has a standard for measuring new distances. When told 
the height of Niagara Falls he realizes that it is not a fabu- 
lous distance ; when he learns that a mountain is thirteen 
thousand feet high, the fact means something, for twenty 
Singer Buildings, one on top of the other, would be neces- 
sary to reach the summit. Some such procedure should be 
the method applicable to all tables of weights and measures. 
Where the method does not apply, the table is not for the 
elementary school. Such teaching would obey the order, 
"things, thoughts, words," but our results to-day indicate 
that the teaching has been conducted back end forward ; it 
emphasizes "words," "thoughts," but has omitted "things." 
We cannot doubt the dictum, "no perception, no meaning," 
nor can we fail to see the truth in the initial statement, "Per- 
ception deepens knowledge, gives a truer and more exact in- 
sight." 



252 Education as Mental Adjustment 

2. To Acquire the Habit of Observation. — We shall see 
the meaning and method of observation under another head 
shortly, but it will suffice here to note that sense training 
would develop the powers of observation so that we would 
see more in our immediate surroundings. The city-bred, 
whose life naturally affords less opportunity and makes less 
demands for sense training, often walk about blind and in- 
sensible to the countless beautiful and interesting elements 
in their environment. What a host of things the naturalist 
sees where we see nothing! Home says, "We are primarily 
meant to look outward rather than inward, to be a friend not 
a stranger of the universe." The truth of the statement ap- 
peals to us all, yet we know how often we walk about in 
darkness. It is as if we lived in a many windowed house, 
advantageously situated to command the best possible view 
of a wonderful landscape panorama and had wilfully drawn 
the shades and then wondered why we saw nothing, why 
beauty did not stream into our dwelling as it did into others. 
To neglect sense training is to draw the curtains over our 
mind's windows, to keep out of our souls the light and the 
beauty that should pour into them. 

3. It Makes for the Most Interesting Kind of Teaching, 
Objective Teaching. — In our discussion of the means of arous- 
ing and sustaining interest, we saw that elementary teaching 
must be made objective in order to awaken and maintain 
a dynamic interest. Without the former we can hardly ex- 
pect to obtain the latter. Sense training hence means that 
objective teaching will be emphasized; we therefore have the 
reason for our statement : interest will almost invariably 
accompany lessons designed for sense training because of 
their objectiveness. 

4. It emphasizes a Study of the Outside World. — This is 
important for three reasons: (a) To really understand higher 
forms' of knowledge we must have a basic acquaintanceship 
with the outside world. When science began to make dis- 
closures contrary to theological and philosophical teachings 
theologians and philosophers began to elaborate and explain 



Perception 253 

their views so that our inner perceptions would not be 
contrary to our sense perceptions. However theoretical 
an individual may be, he must appreciate the impor- 
tance and the meaning of the external world, the practical 
environment, so that his theory will square with practice. 
The tendency of modern thought and education is to discour- 
age idle speculation, knowledge for its own sake. Knowledge 
must be applied, it must be for man 's sake. The modern phi- 
losopher laughs at his mediaeval predecessor indulging in 
sterile speculations and boasts of a new development, prag- 
matism, a philosophy which seeks to make fact and theory 
one and the same. Sense training emphasizes the concrete, 
the practical, the useful. 

(b) The second reason for laying stress on the outside 
world is to prevent too great an emphasis on the thoughts 
concerning the self. Our thoughts must be either about 
things outside of us, the non-ego, or about us, the ego. The 
individual who sees no beauty and finds no meaning or pleas- 
ure in the outside world must turn his thoughts on himself. 
He is sure to become self-conscious, egoistic, self-analytical, 
and even morbid. Too deep a personal insight is bad. The 
much extolled advice of Socrates, "Man, know thyself," has 
its natural limits. To overstep it is dangerous. The self- 
centered person is generally not a happy individual. Such 
people are bitterly discontented. These individuals are men- 
tal dyspeptics ; they cannot digest themselves ; another mental 
diet is essential. Too much self-analysis leads to gloominess 
bordering on the morbid and indicates an unhealthy mind. 
Many forms of dementia, nervous breakdowns, and melan- 
cholia are preceded by a period of constant self-thought and 
self-analysis. We must learn to get away from ourselves. 
Sense training, by emphasizing the outer world, tries to in- 
culcate in us the attitude of the botanist, the zoologist, the 
nature lover. These people are usually alone, yet they are 
lost in their interests in the outer world and rarely, if ever, 
indulge in thoughts that are self-centered. 

(c) And finally we may add that sense training is an 



254 Education as Mental Adjustment 

aid in the acquisition of a love for the beautiful. Through- 
out this study the endeavor has been to show that sense train- 
ing tends to introduce us to the aesthetic element in life. By 
opening up the windows of consciousness it tends to make 
us like a dewdrop in the sunlight: small, insignificant in 
itself, yet resplendent in all its glory, reflecting within the 
beauty and the power of the majesty without. 



How Can the School Train for Better Perception ? 

Having seen the meaning of sense training and the need 
of a proper perceptual basis in teaching, the immediate ques- 
tion is, "How can we best appeal to the senses in our teach- 
ing?" We have two sets of aids (I) those afforded by the 
curriculum, and (II) those which result from proper methods 
of teaching. 

I. The Curriculum and Sense Training. — The proper sub- 
jects must be introduced into the curriculum, otherwise the 
teacher has not the means whereby to make this appeal. The 
old systems of education emphasized the humanities, the 
study of language and history, the study of the things and 
thoughts of the past. Evidently little sense training could 
be given. For this reason a second principle of the modern 
curriculum, realism, was embodied at the demand of the sense 
realists. Their efforts are responsible for the introduction 
of nature study, elementary science, geography, and the man- 
ual arts, not alone for their utilitarian value, but because of 
the discipline which they afforded in the training of the 
senses, for they deal with things of the present. To-day edu- 
cation seeks to emphasize as much of this realistic tendency 
as possible, and even introduces the appeal to senses other 
than the auditory in the language lesson, when children are 
asked to illustrate graphically the content gained in reading 
or to dramatize the sentiment and the action involved. The 
more effective means which the teacher has at his command 
for giving sense training is through — 



Perception 



255 



II. Proper Methods of Teaching. 

(A) By Observation and Experimentation, — Sully, in 
his "Teacher's Handbook of Psychology," says, "To observe 
is to look at a thing closely, then to take note of its several 
parts and details." From this definition we see that observa- 
tion is a series of acts of perception in which the order is, 
from the general mass to the parts, from the vague total to 
its distinct constituent components. Hence, observation is 
well-regulated acts of perception for a definite purpose. From 
the teacher's point of view experimentation is its direct op- 
posite. Let us turn to the contrast. 



Observation. 

1. The student is a pas- 
sive watcher, seeing cause, 
effect, or both. 

2. The teacher must lead 
the observations by guiding 
questions and suggestions. 
The child, left to itself, may 
"look" but fail to "see." It 
is not unusual to ask a child 
to study a spider in a glass 
jar and, when the allotted 
period is up, to have him re- 
port "It creeps" as the sum 
total of his observations. 
The number of legs, shape of 
mouth, peculiar organs for 
spinning the web, these are 
neglected altogether. If they 
are to be noted by the child 
they must be elicited from 
him by a series of questions 
especially designed to achieve 
this result. The child is thus 
directed in observation. 



Experimentation. 

1. The student is an ac- 
tive agent. He changes the 
cause to note a new effect. 

2. The teacher's work is 
minimized. He gives the 
necessary directions at the 
beginning of the experiment 
and the child is the initiator 
in the entire process there- 
after. The child thus be- 
comes master in experimenta- 
tion. 



1250 Education as Mental Adjustment 

3. It gives, at best, a 3. It gives a deeper in- 
more or less superficial aspect sight into the knowledge ac- 
of what is being learned. quired. 

4. The knowledge gained The facts acquired 
is not so permanent because are more permanent, for the 
fewer senses are appealed to appeal is to a greater num- 
in the course of the lesson. ber of senses. The especial 

emphasis on the muscular 
sense helps as a means of fix- 
ation. 

Conclusion for Experimentation in Elementary Teaching. 
— But mere experimentation without observation is a useless 
procedure; observation without experimentation, on the con- 
trary, is a very ineffective mode of getting knowledge. Hence 
the ideal method of instruction must utilize both, since they 
are mutually interdependent, mutually supplementary. This 
simple conclusion must be remembered because the elemen- 
tary school teacher, especially in the lowest primary classes, 
feels that experimentation is a process of learning that is 
reserved for the high schools. For this reason a large num- 
ber of opportunities to bring it into the grade work is lost. 
Aside from the formal physics of the elementary school, 
where can experimentation be employed? There are in- 
numerable opportunities in the nature study of the earlier 
years. The children should be encouraged to plant the com- 
mon hardy seeds that will grow even in the soil in a box on 
a tenement window. They should be required to watch these 
in their growth. The nature study period should be spent 
in listening to a recital of what is happening to each child's 
plant and comparing the behavior of these with the one in 
the class room. These reports may be written and kept in 
a notebook if deemed necessary. We often hear the little 
tots telling their teachers "a plant needs air, sunlight, moist- 
ure, and warmth." This bit of information is required by 
the syllabus, and is therefore learned; but where did the 
children gel it .' Evidently the teacher is the source of this 



Perception 257 

knowledge. Why can the teacher not get it from the chil- 
dren ? If they planted a number of seeds at home, and placed 
some in the dark and others in the cold, kept others in places 
with no air and neglected to give some moisture, this conclu- 
sion would have been the children's own. At a later lesson 
a number of children read their observations, and because 
they correspond, the teacher can lead the children to the 
conclusion that these four requisites are absolutely essential. 
The children enjoy such work, and not only is their stock of 
knowledge enriched but they are gaining in power, in ability 
to find facts for themselves. 

Development of Observation in Children. — It is interest- 
ing to note the development of the powers of observation in 
young children. Dexter and Garlick, in their "Psychology 
in the School Room," give the results of their experiments 
in observation with children. The first set of trials was con- 
ducted with children of three and four, who were just emerg- 
ing from the period of infancy. The results were recorded 
in the form of drawings of common things and animals used 
as models in the experiment. The very best of them show: 

(1) no idea of number; the horse has from two to nine legs; 

(2) the arms are always omitted, but the feet never; (3) no 
idea of sequence or order can be found ; (4) no conception 
of size is manifested; (5) details, like eyes, nose, ears, neck, 
etc., are omitted. These results are typical and show: (1) 
that in observation people see the general mass and outline 
with fair accuracy. This accounts for the fact that all chil- 
dren inserted the feet and omitted the arms, as the general 
shape was thus not destroyed; (2) perceptions are not regu- 
lated unless we train the individual to perceive systemati- 
cally; this explains the absence of necessary details, such as 
the features; (3) visual perception is far from satisfactory 
as a sole means of acquiring knowledge. The teacher must 
not rest content with merely showing the object or its pic- 
ture. Other senses must be appealed to, for their contribu- 
tions serve to correct erroneous observations due to the use 
of one sense. 



258 Education as Mental Adjustment 

The second group of experiments was conducted with 
children ranging from five to ten years of age. Here the ob- 
jects chosen for drawing were the same, but the results were, 
of course, better. However, the errors were often just as 
stupid, for two-thirds of the drawings of profiles showed the 
full nose and both eyes. The authors note that "the average 
child's observations were not only inaccurate, but capricious 
and one-sided." . . . "A figure of a woman hopelessly 
wrong in the position of arms, legs, etc., nevertheless depicts 
in minute detail the feathers in the hat and the buttons on 
the shoes. ... It is perhaps unnecessary to add that 
the artist was a girl." 

From these results one realizes how defective are the sense 
impressions and their interpretations, and how unsatisfactory 
they are as a basis for knowledge, unless the teacher realizes 
the need of training the senses, and of appealing to as many 
as possible, so that each may be a mutual cheek and correction 
upon the others. 

What Is Good Observation? — This conclusion naturally 
leads to an emphasis on objective teaching. But it must be 
remembered that objective teaching is not object teaching. 
The attempt to give sense training through object teaching 
rather than objective teaching led to the inauguration of a 
system of "object lessons" that were mentioned in greater 
elaboration in an earlier connection. The teacher presented a 
common object to the class; the children sensed it and then 
enumerated a long list of qualities, such as hard, transpa- 
rent, fragile, heavy, etc. The primary aim was to see as 
much in each object as possible. These old object lessons 
proved not only dull and uninteresting but of little value in 
training for observation. The child who can see twice as 
many details as another is not necessarily a better observer. 
The girl who draws a man, indicates the buttons cm his coat, 
but inserts two eyes in a profile, and gives ;i hopelessly dis- 
proportionate representation, sees much but not those things 
that make her a good observer. Observation implies the 
noting of essentials, of characteristic and differentiating qual- 



Perception 259 

ities which determine function and use. The child who tells 
us that the squirrel has a head, eyes, nose, ears, tail, is by 
far a poorer observer than his neighbor who notes the pecu- 
liar shape of the mouth and concentrates all his observation 
on the teeth and the animal's mode of feeding. The one 
sees what is worth while, the other sees much more, but 
what is useless or accidental. Good observation is functional 
and qualitative, not quantitative. 

It is essential to remember that what we observe must 
lead to something vital about the object studied. There must 
b*e a goal which makes each succeeding act of perception fol- 
low a definite order toward this end. Noting all the quali- 
ties of a bit of glass, e. g., hardness, smoothness, square in 
shape, heavy, thick, etc., leads to nothing and shows no sys- 
tem. But emphasizing its transparency and its fragility and 
neglecting all else is good observation, for these are the quali- 
ties which determine its use and its function. The old ob- 
ject lessons were not only isolated, independent, fitting no- 
where, and having absolutely no logical and necessary rela- 
tion to any of the school activities, but they also failed in 
that they did not differentiate necessary from unnecessary 
qualities. 'Observation must never be an independent, unre- 
lated process, but rather incidental in a lesson, a means to 
an end far higher than itself. Let the child observe a bushel 
and a peck to learn that four pecks make one bushel, the 
various land and water forms in the clay models and in na- 
ture, the flowers and specimens of the nature study — these 
show acts of observation for a purpose. It must be the nec- 
essary end, the acquisition of some form of knowledge, rather 
than the means or the proeess, which should be emphasized. 
Because observation in the object lessons is the very opposite 
in character they are being abandoned rapidly in this coun- 
try, although they are still in the height of pedagogic fash- 
ion elsewhere. -/ 

Psychological Elements in Observation. — It is the common 
experience of teachers and parents that children's observa- 
tion is as defective as has been seen in the experiments cited. 



2G0 Education as Mental Adjustment 

They are constantly drawing what is not before them, de- 
scribing what is not present, and neglecting what seems to be 
literally staring at them. These erroneous results may be 
ascribed to a fault in one of four elements. (1) The Per- 
ceptual Element. This is the accurate noting of what is pre- 
sented before the senses. The perceptual element is defective 
when the senses bring inaccurate reports of what is before 
them or when the mind misinterprets what they contribute. 
(2) Attention. The object must arouse an interest and a 
desire in the child to perceive it, study it, note its details 
and parts. Teachers will find it a help in the drawing les- 
son to ask the child to describe orally what he sees. In draw- 
ing a rectangular basket the children were told to study the 
handle and describe the places of union with the body of the 
basket and the general direction of the lines. A typical de- 
scription elicited was, "It begins at a point a little beyond 
the middle of the side facing me, runs up vertically, then 
across to the other side, and vertically down to the body of 
the basket again." The mind is thus forced to travel slowly 
and note what a rapid survey of the eye fails to see. (3) 
Previous Experience. It is obvious that one's past experience 
is a determining influence in efficient observation. The per- 
son who has never looked into a microscope sees little or 
nothing in his early studies through it. The student sees 
little that is of chemical importance as he looks into the test 
tube during his first laboratory hour. Previous similar ex- 
perience trains the senses so that they can "see" intelligently 
where they "saw" nothing in the past. (4) Bias of Feel- 
ing. Our interpretations of the perceptual elements will be 
modified to a great extent by the attitude with which we 
approach the subject. In all observations, we often see 
what we want to see. lie who detests physics sees nothing 
in the experiment. Yet how much such a person may see in 
the "round of petty concerns and irritating cares of daily 
life." . . . "To observe accurately is to put aside pre- 
possessions, to restrain the imagination, to direct the mind 
with singleness of purpose to what is actually present before 



Perception 261 

the senses." To neglect any one of these factors means poor 
observation. 

(B) By Individuating a Lesson. — Since the mind's first 
acquisition is the percept, the recognition of particular in- 
dividual things, teaching must begin by emphasizing the indi- 
vidual rather than the general notion. In presenting a gen- 
eral topic, therefore, it is essential that the teacher should 
always individuate the lesson, that is, teach it analytically. 
Let us make this concrete. Before giving a lesson we must 
select the special points to be taught and present these indi- 
vidual facts one by one, properly stressed, explained, and 
illustrated. For illustrative purposes let the topic in 
geography be the "Products of the United States." It 
is almost inexcusable to present a long list of the prod- 
ucts and ask the children to learn it as a whole. The 
better plan would be, after the list of products has been 
inferred from conditions of soil and climate, to ask each 
child to draw an outline map of the United States, then 
consider each section by itself and connect it with its 
most characteristic product. Thus: Maine, New Hamp- 
shire, Vermont — lumber ; Pennsylvania — coal ; Gulf States 
— cotton; Lake States — wheat; Prairie States — cattle, etc., 
etc. In addition the children should insert below each 
product a diagram representing the part which the United 
States supplies of the whole world's output, thus: 
cotton £ Hl^l< the shaded section representing our 

output. Each percept would be taught through the visual and 
muscular as well as through the auditory sense by this indi- 
viduating process. In the first case the children simply mem- 
orize a given list ; it is a blind and meaningless memoriter 
recitation. But in the plan suggested each product is asso- 
ciated with its own section, with the physical condi- 
tions of soil and temperature that determine it. In recit- 
ing the children try to visualize the outline map, and 
read off the products as they see them in each locality, 
rather than, in parrot fashion, to give the list learned 
by heart. 



262 Education as Mental Adjustment 

The, Tijjx as a Means of Individuation. — A second and 
more common method of individuating a lesson is through the 
use of the type in teaching. One usually speaks of a type in 
composition, type of colony, type of river, of flowers, or of 
animals. The word type, as used here, has a distinct and 
peculiar meaning in teaching. A type is ;i concrete particu- 
lar thing or action embodying the characteristics of a whole 
class. In teaching the term "mountain chain," the Rockies 
nay be used as a type. Although they form only one par- 
ticular chain, they manifest the common characteristics of all 
mountain chains. A type is a least common denominator of 
knowledge, for it enables us to think of a variety of things 
in terms of it. It bridges the chasm between the individual 
thing, which is concrete, and the class notion, which is ab- 
stract. 

McMnrry, in speaking of the use of the type in teaching, 
says, "The value of the type lies in its representative power." 
Since each type can call up its class, he urges, "Every avenue 
of knowledge should have a type at its gate." This simple 
dictum is not without its advantages when applied directly 
in teaching. In learning and reciting definitions, the child 
should always be required to give a good type or example 
first and then the formal or informal statement of the defi- 
nition. If the teacher asks, "What is a preposition?" the 
child's answer should take the form of "Sit on the chair near 
the table; on, near — a preposition is a word used, etc." If 
the question be "What is a prime number?" the answer 
should be, "Seven, thirteen, seventeen; a prime number is, 
etc." "What is a continental island?" brings the response, 
"Cuba — an island which, etc." 

The child who is taught to have a type ever ready with 
eacfi definition, or principle, or law. can retain knowledge 
longer and more easily. Withoul the type he must remember 
the abstract wording and the meaning hack of it. In one 
case the child goes through a process of thoughtful construc- 
tion; in the other, one of verbal reproduction. The type crys- 
tallizes the whole matter; it forms one precipitate of the es- 



Perception 263 

sential qualities ; it makes knowledge concrete and hence 
makes it simple to handle. 

(C) By Motorizing the Presentation. — Psychology 
teaches that all perception is due to brain habit. A concrete 
illustration may make the matter clear. A person is told to 
look at a table and, without having any special object in view, 
he is asked to describe it. He says that it has a square or a 
rectangular top, four legs of equal length, etc. But as a 
matter of fact he really sees only three legs, and these, surely, 
are of unequal length; the corners are far from right angles. 
Evidently he said he saw what he did not. This phenomenon 
finds its explanation in the fact that, in past experience, the 
table was learned with its true characteristics. The present 
sensations aroused the habitually correct reactions and the 
person described the table as it is rather than as he saw it. 
Psychologically speaking, one's perception of a table is due 
to his brain habits. 

Let us apply this to class teaching. It is obvious, there- 
fore, that in arithmetic, in geography, in nature study, it is 
not enough to show the object or to study it from a picture 
the first time it is presented. The children should learn the 
divisions of land by actually creating them in the manual 
training periods. Too often the child who recites "an isth- 
mus is a narrow neck of land connecting two larger bodies, 
etc.," has little meaning back of the definition in spite of the 
diagram on the board. A teacher complained that the class 
believed that an island floated about, otherwise how could 
it be entirely surrounded by water? Had the children actu- 
ally learned the island by modeling it, by motorizing the 
thought, then they would have had a truer conception of it. 
They would have seen that, since the model island did not 
float about, because its base was fixed, the real island is sta- 
tionary for a similar reason. The children who raised the 
question were not necessarily stupid, as the teacher com- 
plained. 

The Changing Sense-Appeal Sustains Perceptions. — An- 
gell says, "We cannot continue to perceive an object beyond 



264 Education as Mental Adjustment 

a moment or two, unless we perceive it in a new manner." 
In trying to establish a percept, therefore, we must keep 
changing the appeal that it makes to the senses. This ex- 
plains why we gain the most knowledge from a picture dur- 
ing the first moment of the presentation. Look at any fixed 
object in the room. At the end of a moment or two the mind 
involuntarily attempts to leave it and the image becomes 
blurred. If the object is changing we can keep watching it 
much longer. The thing perceived, therefore, to continue be- 
ing perceived, must change its appearance. This psychologi- 
cal fact has its lesson for the teacher. 

Learning to perceive by "doing" would give a new ele- 
ment to what we present. In teaching a flower, we must let the 
children separate it into its component parts, and put them 
into the proper position again to regain the shape of the flower. 
It is not sufficient to have the children merely look at it if 
they are to obtain a good percept of it. In the workshop this 
principle, "Learn to know by doing," applies equally well. 
In the processes of creating, measuring, cutting, fitting, etc., 
we are constantly perceiving from different points of view, 
seeing the same thing from a different angle. Hence those 
things that we learn to know through the process of crea- 
tion, by actually doing them, always mean more to us. The 
experienced man is always more proficient because he has 
actually been doing the thing that the inexperienced person 
has read about or has seen, but not done. Teaching by mo- 
torizing is hence a means of increasing the mind's power to 
perceive. 

Dramatization an Elaboration of the Principle of Motori- 
zation. — Motorization, when applied to subjects like history, 
literature, civics, and the like, is called dramatization. When 
it is used within proper bounds it becomes exceedingly valu- 
able in giving a clearer perception of meaning. The children 
should be required to produce in action the ideas which they 
gained in these subjects. This is the most effective means 
of discovering errors and misconceptions which the children 
carry away. In reading, for example, the teacher should 



Perception 265 

demand not only correct vocalization but proper bodily ex- 
pression as well. The child who reads "Father Felician, with 
faltering step, ascended the altar" should be made to execute 
the movements. Then there can be no doubt that he has 
grasped the meaning. "And he spoke in a faltering voice, 
' what is this that ye do, my children, ' ' ' should be read in 
the faltering, solemn voice of the priest. This insures a 
proper grasp of "faltering" not only by the child who is 
reading but also by those who listen and watch. Every pri- 
mary teacher who insists on this motorization in the reading 
of "The Three Bears" can testify to the spirit and enthu- 
siasm as each child is made to read in the sharp, shrill voice 
of the little bear, the grumble of the middle-sized bear, or 
the gruff voice of the big bear. A class of foreign-born chil- 
dren whose language is exceedingly limited cannot be made 
to understand the meaning of shrill, grumble, gruff without 
this appeal to the senses. No child can feel the story and 
lose itself in it unless we insist on its motorization or, the 
more pretentious term, dramatization. 

In teaching civics, especially in the upper classes, excel- 
lent results can be obtained by motorization. A topic as- 
signed by many courses of study is "How a Bill Becomes 
a Law." No amount of explanation of the origin of the 
bill, of its introduction, how it is referred to the committee 
and reported out, read three times, voted on, passed to the 
next house, through the labyrinth of legislative action, will 
make the meaning quite clear. Nor will the child really per- 
ceive the process. The best method presents the topic through 
motorization. Divide the class into two houses, with their 
respective heads, one elected, and the other appointed by the 
teacher. Have the bill introduced by one child and let the 
rest pass it through all the necessary steps. The lesson is 
alive; it teaches the process by appealing to action; it gives 
a percept that is clear, vivid, and lasting. 

Motorization is an effective means of teaching, primarily 
because it makes its appeal to the muscular sense. The pre- 
vious discussion emphasized this gate to consciousness. We 
18 



26G Education as Mental Adjustment 

must stop to reinforce this conclusion by noting what a dom- 
inant factor it is in all acquisition of knowledge. Leading 
psychologists offer plenty of corroborative evidence on this 
point. The following are only a few of the typical views. 
Stout, in his "Analytical Psychology," says, "Every two 
elements whatsoever, connected together in consciousness, 
are so only because they have motor effects in common." 
King, in "Psychology of Child Development," tells us, "The 
perceptual process is penetrated through and through by ex- 
periences of movement. Passive sensations serve only to 
guide and define motor sensations." 

Through an application of observation and experimenta- 
tion, individuating the lesson and harping on the type, mo- 
torizing the presentation whenever possible, we appeal to the 
senses and seek to give a reliable perceptual foundation on 
which we can build the child's later mental structure. 

Over-objectiveness. — In applying the theory emphasized 
in the doctrine of perception, the usual error many teachers 
make is to overemphasize the objective presentation. Gen- 
erally speaking, there are two conditions which justify ob- 
jective teaching. The previous study traced the develop- 
ment of the child through the presentative, the representa- 
tive, and the thought stages. When the pupil is in the first 
of these phases, the stage in which only the real and the 
concrete have meaning for the individual, objective teaching 
is practically the only possible and proper method of pres- 
entation. Then, too, it was said that the mind, in acquiring 
a new subject, takes these three successive attitudes toward 
it. Hence, in teaching the elements of a subject, in giving 
its introduction, we must be objective and concrete. There- 
fore the general law in leaching is that primary percepts 
and concepts must be taught objectively; not all percepts 
and concepts, but only those that are initial and basic are 
the primary ones in any subject. To teach objectively in the 
upper grades, when we are giving the advanced principles 
or the application of the basic laws of a subject, is as unped- 
agogical as to give an abstract presentation at the very be- 



Perception 267 

ginning. It is part of the disciplinary effect of the work, 
part of the strength and power resulting from teaching and 
study, to enable the child to deal in abstractions, to get 
away from the concrete and the actual. Over-objective teach- 
ing weakens the mind by making it unnecessarily dependent 
on the real, by not utilizing the mental powers in the repre- 
sentative and the thought stages. 



SUGGESTED READING 

Angell. Psychology, Chaps, 5, 6 and 7. 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 17. 

Dexter and Garlick. Psychology in the School Boom, Chaps. 4, 5, 

6 and 8. 
Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chaps. 7 and 8. 



CHAPTER XVI 

APPERCEPTION: HOW DOES THE MIND ASSIMILATE NEW 
KNOWLEDGE? 

Introduction. — The doctrine of perception in teaching 
seeks to answer the question : ' ' How does the mind carry out 
its first f miction, viz., to gain the necessary facts?" It was 
shown how the sense organs gather all the necessary excita- 
tions from the outside world and present this raw material 
to the mind. The next question must therefore be: "How 
does the mind gain knowledge out of these sensations?" 
"How does it read meaning and intelligence into this sense 
material?" "How does it assimilate what comes into it 
through its various gates?" The answer and the explana- 
tion lie in the doctrine of apperception. 

Meaning of Apperception. — A clear conception of this vi- 
tal process can best be obtained from a concrete case. A 
story employed very often for this purpose is one introduced 
by Steinthal and repeated by Adams, O'Shea, Bolton, and 
others. It tells that: "In a railway carriage compartment 
sit, in lively conversation, half a dozen persons totally unac- 
quainted with each other. It is a matter of regret that one 
of the company must get out at the next station. Another 
remarks that he particularly likes such a meeting with to- 
tally unknown folks, and that he never cither asks who or 
what his traveling companions may be, or tells, on such an 
occasion, who or wh.il he himself is. Thereupon one of the 
company says if the others will not say what they are he will 
pledge himself to find out if only every one will answer him 
a quite irrelevant question. This was agreed to. Taking five 
leaves from his notebook, he wrote a question and handed one 

268 



Apperception 269 

to each of his companions, with the request to write the an- 
swer upon it. After they had given him back the sheets, he 
said, as soon as he had read an answer, and without reflec- 
tion, to one, 'You are a scientist'; to another, 'You are a 
soldier'; to a third, 'You are a philologist'; to the fourth, 
'You are a political writer'; to the fifth, 'You are a farmer.' 
All admitted that he was right. Then he got out and left 
the five behind. Each wanted to know what question the 
other had got, and behold one and the same question had 
been proposed to all. It ran: 'What being itself destroys 
what it has brought forth?' To this the scientist had an- 
swered, Vital force; the soldier, War; the philologist, Kronos; 
the writer, Revolution; the farmer, A boar." 

It is very obvious that, in the case of each person, all 
the conditions were exactly the same, the questions, the 
writing, yet why were the answers so diversified? Evi- 
dently the difference lay in the individuals, in the mental 
glasses through which each viewed the problem. Each 
brought to the question as much as he expected to get out 
of it, each interpreted it in terms of his own life, his own 
previous experience, j The mental process of interpretation 
through which each mind passed is known as apperception. 
The sum total of the experience which each mind brought 
to bear in this interpretative process is called the apperceptive 
stock, or the apperceptive mass. 

Apperception Defined. — James defines apperception as the 
mental assimilation of a new presentation ; but the meaning 
that a new presentation will suggest always depends upon 
what is contained in the individual's psycho-static condition; 
that is, in his apperceiving mass of ideas. A simple defini- 
tion, more helpful because it reflects the value of appercep- 
tion in teaching, is,. "The mind's interpretation of the new 
in terms of the old." From this formal statement the con- 
clusion is obvious that "all cognition is only recognition." 

The Nature of Apperception. — It is essential that the stu- 
dent guard against considering apperception as a mental 
result rather than a mental process. Percepts and sensations 



270 Education as Mental Adjustment 

are the resull of mental reactions. Bui apperception is a 

process which gives, as a result, the perception of the experi- 
ences we live through in life. 

The nature of apperception is often expressed in the 
form of a proportion, for we are told that the mental proc- 
ess of apperception is to the mind as the physical processes 
of digestion and assimilation are to the body. We can 
clearly deduce, therefore, that we see by means of what we 
have seen, we hear by means of what we have heard, we 
think by means of what we have thought. lie who has some 
knowledge can acquire more. The biblical expression, "To 
him that hath shall be given." finds its pedagogical illus- 
tration in apperception. We may therefore conclude with 
safety that no two people see the same thing in the same 
way, nor think of it in a similar manner, for no two indi- 
viduals have the same apperceptive stock of knowledge which 
determines their interpretations. To the historian the 
head of Lincoln revives the memories of the historic set- 
ting of his activities, to the minister and moralist it is the 
embodiment of inspiring human virtue, to the sculptor it is 
an excellent model, "a good subject," the imitation of 
whose likeness affords a means of artistic expression. In dis- 
cussing imitation the point was made that a perfect repro- 
duction is well-nigh an impossibility. The fact is used by 
some as an argument to prove that imitation naturally de- 
velops originality. In the light of the present discussion of 
apperception we can offer the explanation that an exad 
counterpart is an impossibility, because the varying mental 
prepossessions in the mind of each imitator give, almost, a 
preconceived image. 

The doctrine of apperception explains the use of old 
knowledge. Old ideas in the mind must not be regarded as 
a mass of dead weight which is recalled by special memory 
effort. Old knowledge is a living and dynamic factor, an 
active power which can seize, appropriate, and interpret new 
facts. Old facts are compared by Lazarus to "well-armed 
men in the inner stronghold of the mind, ready to sally forth 



Apperception 271 

and overcome or make serviceable whatever shows itself at 
the portals of the senses." 

Taking this view of old knowledge, it becomes impor- 
tant to select only such knowledge as is useful or socially 
necessary. That knowledge which is designed only to "train 
the mind" is not valuable enough to warrant its acquisition. 
We must learn such information as will become a factor in 
the further acquisition of new knowledge. Those facts which 
are not worth the learning for their own intrinsic value as 
facts are not worth learning at all. We may quote Mc- 
Murry to support this contention: "In the selection of ma- 
terial for school studies, we must keep in mind knowledge, 
which, as Comenius says, is of solid utility. Knowledge 
which is thus useful is in itself a strong element of power 
because it is a direct means of interpreting and mastering 
the world. Much of the knowledge gained in schools for 
mere disciplinary purposes is not, in the apperceptive sense, 
a source of power. It may be indeed mere pedantry and 
pretense and even self-deception." 

Apperception is regarded as a force which makes for men- 
tal economy. It is only a particular form of association of 
ideas. Every new idea is fused with kindred old ones; 
knowledge becomes so classified and systematized that a new 
acquisition causes the mind no perceptible increase of effort 
to retain it. Apperception thus makes for mental unity, for 
it is a process which concentrates our knowledge through in- 
tegration. By associating, classifying, and unifying indi- 
vidual facts it thus achieves a much desired economy of men- 
tal effort. 

A new idea which does not fuse readily with our men- 
tal possessions is rejected. Herbart therefore defines inter- 
est, as was noted in a previous connection, as the feeling 
which accompanies apperception. The justification for this 
conception is found in the fact that an idea which we do 
not readily appereeive is uninteresting. The truth of this 
is a common experience, for we know that the mind has a 
natural aversion for anything which is so new and strange 



272 Education as Mental Adjustment 

that it does not harmonize with our past selves. In youth 
curiosity leads us to call up the wrong apperceptive mass 
and thus produce a hybrid fusion. The child who sees the 
snow for the first time calls the flakes feathers. A lad of 
four who saw a music sheet, with its lines and notes, an- 
nounced that this was a picture of barbed wire. In old age 
this tendency toward mental economy leads to a rejection of 
that which is markedly new. This mental phenomenon ex- 
plains the old "fogy" and his quaking fear of any radical 
change from the beaten path of his old days. 

Psychological Conditions Essential for Apperception. — 
There are certain definite basic conditions in apperception 
whose presence must be guaranteed if we expect the new 
knowledge that we present to fuse readily and properly 
through correct interpretation. These are primarily four in 
number : 

1. Properly Sustained Attention. — Unless the appercep- 
tive stock of knowledge can be sustained we do not gain 
clear and steady understanding. A common class-room com- 
plaint is, ' ' In one ear and out of the other. ' ' This is caused 
by shifty attention, which gives a fluctuating apperceptive 
mass without the necessary permanency for proper inter- 
pretation. 

2. Liberal Number of Ideas in Apperceptive Stock. — 
When a child complains that the grammar lesson is too dif- 
ficult despite his honest endeavor to learn it, we have a clear 
illustration of the fact that his past knowledge is so scanty 
that a union of present facts with old knowledge gives no 
rational result. The gradation of lessons is evidently faulty. 
The teacher must reorganize the development of the subject 
and present a simpler topic that finds in the mind a host of 
kindred facts and viewpoints which will serve as interpre- 
tative material. 

3. Proper Apperceptive Stocb Must Be Called Up. — A 
common explanation which children give for incorred 
answers in examination is, "1 misunderstood the question." 
This is simply a statement that the wrong apperceptive mass 



Apperception 273 

has been aroused and fused, causing hence the inevitable in- 
correct interpretation. Tell an English and an American 
child that you have two pounds, — how varied are the con- 
ceptions in the minds of each. 

4. Proper Emotional Attitude. — This is a very impor- 
tant condition for proper apperception. Not only must the 
proper apperceptive stock be called up but the pupils must 
be emotionally receptive, emotionally conditioned for the in- 
terpretative process. When one is cheerful, he hardly pays 
any attention to a slight noise. When the same person is 
vexed, this disturbance becomes a clamor and a source of 
great annoyance. Personality, aside from old knowledge, has 
a decided effect on apperception. The morbid person sees 
everything from the gloomy side ; his buoyant brother may 
rejoice in the same conditions. The personal equation, the 
temperamental ego, rather than old facts, will often deter- 
mine the most vital interpretations. Thus Hamlet complains, 
"There is nothing good nor bad, but thinking will make 
it so." 

A vivid, convincing illustration of how apperception is 
determined by emotional attitude is found in the contrast of 
Walt Whitman's estimate of life with that held by Thomp- 
son. The former admits that the day is cloudy and even 
cheerless; but back of the gloom the sun is waiting; "What 
a glorious day we shall have on the morrow." The latter 
concedes that the day is pleasant but the clouds are gather- 
ing for to-morrow's storm. Whitman, paralyzed and help- 
less in his invalid's chair, speaks of the joy of merely liv- 
ing, of watching nature in her kaleidoscopic changes through- 
out the successive seasons, turning from beautiful to more 
beautiful. As the last hour drew near, his all-controlling 
optimism dispelled fear and gloom, for he remarked, "I may 
be at death's door but I refuse to spend my last moments 
in death's shadow." Thompson, strong of body, on the con- 
trary, conceives his life spent in a "City of Dreadful Night," 
each hour of which is a "ceaseless, termless hell." Shall we 
take the roseate aspect of Whitman or the deep-dyed pessi- 



274 Education as Mental Adjustment 

mistic view of Thompson? Whichever attitude we assume, 
we may be confident that it will determine our interpretation 
of everything we read, of all we see, of everything we do, of 
all that life offers. Apperception in the final analysis is 
truly the psychic means of adjustment to environment. 

Application of Apperception to Teaching 

What application can be made of the apperceptive doc- 
trine in class teaching? It serves to emphasize a number of 
useful practices, chief among which we must study the fol- 
lowing. 

I. Every Lesson Should Begin with a Definite Preparatory 
Step. — Apperception teaches clearly that no new idea can 
be grasped when presented by itself. The teacher must 
therefore call up its proper kindred associations and pre- 
pare the intellect for its reception. The beginning of each 
lesson must therefore be thoroughly apperceptive in its 
nature and strive to supply a fertile mental bed«in which to 
plant the seed of new knowledge. 

Dangers in Neglecting the Preparatory Step. — This pre- 
paratory step, the review step, is absolutely essential, for its 
omission leads to one or more of the errors pointed out by 
McMurry in his "Method of the Recitation." These dangers 
in neglecting a preparatory step are (a) "no understanding 
of the presentation or only a partial comprehension." Teach 
"percentage" without first reviewing decimals of two places, 
and the children have no idea what you mean. Present 
decimals as a thoroughly new and independent branch of 
arithmetic without showing that all whole numbers obey the 
same law. viz. : as we go from right to left, they increase 
ten-fold, from left to right they decrease ten-fold, and that 
therefore decimals are only a continuation of whole numbers, 
and the children fail to grasp the meaning and underlying 
principle in the decimal notation. If comprehension finally 
does come, it is not until the middle of the lesson is reached; 
then only do the children see a glimmer of light. But a 



Apperception 275 

little time spent on the notation of whole numbers prepares 
the mind for the tenths, hundredths, and thousandths of the 
new work, (b) A second great danger in omitting the pre- 
paratory step is inevitable. Because the children understand, 
at best, only partially the initial elements in the lesson, atten- 
tion is lost and listlessness supplants interest. It makes little 
difference whether one or both of these conditions arise, be- 
cause either one militates against a successful lesson and 
effective teaching. The conclusion thus far is, therefore, re- 
view the necessary old knowledge before teaching the new, 
for, in teaching, the sequence is from the known to the re- 
lated unknown. 

Means of Establishing Apperceptive Basis. — The means 
that teachers employ for recalling the requisite old knowl- 
edge are invariably two. Some simply state a summary of 
the old facts and thus pave the way for the new. What- 
ever may be said of this means in higher teaching, it cer- 
tainly has no place in the elementary school. Let the teacher 
state the summary and the children are at once inattentive, 
for they feel that they know this. The better, and per- 
haps the only permissible, method is to review the old by 
asking a few leading questions. Now the burden of thought 
is on their side, they must find the necessary basis for the 
new lesson. Giving it to them does not guarantee that it is 
in their minds: requiring them to give it to the teacher is a 
partial assurance that a working apperceptive stock has been 
aroused. 

Preparatory Step Must End in a Statement of the 
"Aim." — But every preparatory step must look forward as 
well as backward. The review must have a definite point to 
attain and must move toward its specific goal; it must fore- 
shadow the tendency of the new lesson, hence we say that 
every preparatory step must end in the statement of the 
' ' aim ' ' of the period, otherwise it is futile. 

Illustrations of the Value of the "Aim." — A few concrete 
illustrations may make clear the importance and the func- 
tion of the "aim." The topic of the lesson is "Washing- 



276 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ton's Administration." The children are asked to enumerate 
a list of problems that would confront any group that tried 
to organize a new club in a social center or in their school 
with pupils who never belonged to such a society before. 
Such a question asked of sixth year children elicited the fol- 
lowing inevitable difficulties after a few suggestions were 
given. "We would have no money," "Other clubs would 
not respect us," "The members would not obey the officers 
at the beginning," "New members would not readily join 
this club for they would doubt whether we could exist," etc. 
A hasty review of the condition of the country during the 
critical period was followed by the question, "What diffi- 
culties must have confronted Washington at his inaugura- 
tion?" Reasoning by analogy, the children gave "lack of 
money, international difficulties due to lack of respect for 
the new government, lack of credit because of a doubt as to 
the long continued existence of this government, disobedience 
and challenging of its authority," etc. The preparatory step 
then closed with a statement of the "Aim": "I wonder how 
Washington solved these great problems. " The minds of the 
children were prepared for Hamilton's financial policy, inter- 
national complications, lack of credit. Whisky Insurrection, 
and refusal to pay revenue taxes, — the basic problems, and 
the policies of the administration. 

The lesson may be "The Erie Canal." By questions we 
review the position of Chicago, the productions of the Great 
Lake Region, the outlet to the ocean through the St. Law- 
rence River and English Territory, the fact that New York 
was the third, not the first city in the country as it is to-day. 
The question then arises, "What United States port had to be 
selected to serve as an outlet for the surplus product?" The 
children can be led to see that it had to be New York. "How 
would the commodities be transported?" The class is readily 
led to see that wagons were impossible and a water route 
must be sought. "How near to New York can we get by 
water?" The children trace the route from Chicago through 
the lakes to Buffalo, from New York City to Albany, and are 



Apperception 277 

asked to suggest a remedy since so much natural water way 
can be used. After they suggest "The building of a canal," 
the teacher states the aim, "Let us see how New York and 
Chicago were connected by water." 

In teaching "Burgoyne's Invasion," we must stop at the 
geography involved in the lesson; we must elicit from the 
children, who have the map before them, that the easiest way 
through New York State from Canada is by way of the 
Mohawk and the Hudson River valleys, that this line would 
cut the New England colonies from the Middle Atlantic States, 
and thus not only cut the territory in two, but separate the 
financial colonies from those supplying food and other neces- 
sities. Without this geographic basis, "Burgoyne's Invasion" 
loses much in clearness of comprehension. Having organized 
the children's preparatory knowledge the teacher announces, 
"We are to study about an attempt on the part of the Eng- 
lish to take these two valleys." 

The Value of a Proper Aim. — Every preparatory step 
should therefore end in a statement of the aim. Its ad- 
vantages are such as to make it invaluable for successful 
teaching. To begin with, the teacher has a clear, positive 
and definite view of what is to be taught. With the aim ever 
present the teacher realizes that he must select only such 
illustrations, examples, aids and suggestions as will bring 
home the one main point, and make that lasting and rich. 
At the end of the period the basic principle, the most im- 
portant points in the lesson, the answer to the aim, all stand 
out above the rest of the material; the other facts assume a 
subordinate position. Omit the aim and all facts sink to one 
level of importance. Such a lesson is basically defective. A 
good aim also gives the teacher a knowledge of the pupil's 
mental content. The teacher has turned the child's mind in 
a definite direction, has adjusted it to a particular problem. 
If the aim is omitted the mind runs over the whole field of 
knowledge in the subject, seeking the point of contact ; there is 
diffusion of energy and attention. If the aim is stated, then 
the child concentrates on one topic, he feels that he has a 



278 Education as Mental Adjustment 

point of attack in the lesson. Thus, in the illustrations cited, 
we directed the mind to look for "ITow Washington met the 
problems attending the organization of a government," "How 
a canal helped New York and made it the leading commer- 
cial city," "Why and how the English tried to take 
the Hudson River." Having adjusted the mind and 
having placed it on the right track, the child can be ex- 
pected to follow more easily the order of development of 
the lesson. 

And, finally, we must remember that a good aim is a 
standard of relevancy. If in teaching the aim is kept before 
the class and the teacher, the lesson will not go off at a 
tangent at every new point. All that is irrelevant and im- 
material is easily omitted ; everything that reinforces the 
problem is welcomed and incorporated. Most errors of 
faulty instruction can be traced to aimless teaching. Neither 
teacher nor class is conscious of any one big problem that is 
to be solved. So definite and specific should the aim be that 
if at any moment a stranger stopped the class in the middle 
of a lesson and asked, "What are you trying to learn?" the 
answer should be forthcoming from every child. Knowing 
the goal, the pupils interpret every step in terms of the aim 
and often anticipate the next conclusion. This means 
thought, active cooperation, — results whose advantages should 
be sought at every opportunity. 

The Emotional Preparation. — In our reading lessons, more 
than in any others, do we fail to see the need of a prepara- 
tory step. If our conception of a reading lesson is only one 
in which we make the children vocalize the printed letters and 
words on the page, then we need no preparation. But 
if we really want our children not only to understand but 
also to feel and appreciate what they read, then we must 
prepare the minds emotionally, make them emotionally re- 
ceptive for what is coming. Before reading the "Children's 
Hour," we must picture to the child the eagerness of a father 
to complete his day's work so that he may meet his children, 
their eagerness to be with him, the joy that the children 



Apperception 279 

themselves have experienced in meeting their own fathers. 
The children are now emotionally conditioned to appreciate 
the spirit of the poem. In every masterpiece we find that 
the author himself tries to instil in his reader the proper 
apperceptive feeling before he gets into the heart of the 
story. Note the sad and plaintive atmosphere that Long- 
fellow gives in his prelude to Evangeline. "This is the 
forest primeval, the murmuring pines and the hemlocks," 
etc., etc. There can be no doubt as to the nature of the 
story; the mind is prepared both to give the sympathy called 
for and experience the sorrow and the sufferings of the char- 
acters. So, too, in music ; does not the composer try, in the 
overture, to put the listener into the proper emotional state? 
We must have a proper apperceptive stock of emotions as 
well as of ideas, otherwise appreciation is markedly decreased, 
if not obliterated entirely. What the author does in the 
masterpiece, and the composer in music, the teacher must 
do for each day's reading lesson. 

How Can an Emotional Preparation Be Given? — The 
teacher who is readily convinced of the need of an emotional 
preparation now asks, "How can this emotional receptivity 
be produced?" Three practical suggestions are offered for 
class-room work: (a) state the facts, then stir the child's 
mind to see possibilities for comedy or pathos in the situa- 
tion ; (b) as far as possible obviate unseemly mirth; (c) use 
appropriate pictures. Let us apply each of these. 

Application to Specific Lessons. — (a) Suppose the reading 
lesson to be Longfellow's "Excelsior." Through a series of 
review questions elicit from the children the topography of a 
mountainous section like that of Switzerland and the severity 
of the storms and snows in such a region. This will give 
the necessary situation. We now ask the children, "What 
dangers might befall you if you started out on an errand 
just as such a storm was breaking out?" As the children 
picture themselves at the mercy of the elements they suggest, 
"I might lose my way," "I might be buried in the snow," 
"I might be frozen to death," etc. These are only a few of 



280 Education as Menial Adjustment 

a lisl of tragic possibilities offered by a sixth year class. After 
five or six good suggestions have been obtained, and while 
the children's imaginations are still conjuring up the terrors 
of the situation, the teacher announces, "Let us see what 
befell the boy that Longfellow tells about." 

"The Wreck of the Hesperus" would receive a somewhat 
similar treatment. Let the children open their geographies to 
a picture of a rock-bound coast. As in the first illustration, 
place the child in the midst of the situation in order to secure 
active imagination. Let the teacher ask, "If you were in a 
sailing vessel along such a coast and were caught by a sudden 
storm, what dangers would threaten you?" The child's love 
of melodrama asserts itself as he begins to paint the terrors of 
such a plight. A few of the answers given by the children fol- 
low: "driven to sea and lost," "dashed against the rocks," 
"loss of rudder and masts," etc. The teacher then adds, "I 
wonder what happened to the skipper and his daughter on the 
Hesperus." 

The reading lesson may be a larger unity, a long master- 
piece, but the emotional preparation would be the same. Be- 
fore beginning to read Shakespeare 's ' ' Julius Caesar, ' ' teacher 
and class review the government of Rome, the rapid rise of 
Caesar, etc. The children are now asked to account for the 
many enemies of Caesar and they offer, "some were jealous," 
"some feared him," "others lost everything by his for- 
tunes," "still others feared the downfall of the republic," 
etc., etc. "What would the enemies of so great a man as 
Caesar naturally do?" the teacher queries. As the obvious 
answer, "they begin to plot against him," is obtained from 
the pupils, the teacher announces "Let us turn to the great 
plot against Caesar as told by Shakespeare." The children be- 
gin to read with minds ready to see behind actions and state- 
ments, seeking machinations and schemes. How much more 
intelligent does the first act become if the children start with 
such an attitude ! 

Where the selection is humorous, the same method may be 
employed. In preparing for "Rip Van Winkle," a short 



Apperception 281 

conversation with the class soon brought up descriptions of 
many queer experiences after sleep. Many children recalled 
occasions of having napped for an hour late in the afternoon 
of a winter's day and then, imagining that they had slept 
overnight, made strange remarks which amused the rest cf the 
family very much. Others told of confusing what they 
dreamed about with real occurrences, and realizing their error 
only when I hey were laughed at. As the children were in this 
reminiscent mood and a smile lit up each face, the teacher 
introduced the reading lesson with "Now let us see what a 
trick sleep played on Rip Van Winkle." The pupils begin 
their reading in the proper spirit. When the class read in 
the very first paragraph about that "broad expanse of the 
Hudson, where the Dutch sailors prudently pulled in sail," 
the children realized the delicate humor and the gentle irony 
of the author. 

A history lesson often demands the same kind of emo- 
tional preparation. It is evident that in giving a lesson on 
Arnold the apperceptive basis can be established with little 
difficulty. What is more important is that the children have 
the proper emotional attitude toward the man and his of- 
fense. They must experience a feeling not only of resent- 
ment and disapproval toward the traitor, but also of pity for 
his miserable lot. To insure this proper emotional reaction, 
let the children recall an act of treachery on the part of one 
of their playmates. By a few judicious questions and sug- 
gestions, elicit the disgust and contempt that his old friends 
now feel toward him, and the distrust with which his new 
companions regard him. They must not only realize how 
hard is the path of the transgressor and how dearly he pays 
for his folly, but they must also have some sympathy for the 
erring wretch. With such an emotional attitude as a basis, 
the teacher can introduce the topic in question, confident 
that the life and conduct of Arnold will be regarded with 
entire disapproval, yet without the bitterness which the 
average school history arouses. 

These examples taken from literature and history illustrate 
19 



282 Education as Mental Adjustment 

the class-room application of the suggestion which advises that 
*he necessary facts and conditions be first given and then the 
series of possibilities for emotional experience be started in 
the mind of each child. 

(b) The appreciation and the emotional appeal of many 
literary gems are often lost because no attempt is made to 
forestall an improper sentiment or a vulgar interpretation 
which children so often show. A little class-room experience 
soon enables teachers to recognize what parts of a master- 
piece to omit, what incidents to pass over, or what expres- 
sions to guard against. Many a class has lost the force and 
the grandeur of the simple appeal for democracy in Burns' 
"A Man's a Man for A' That" by inexcusable mirth when 
the line, "The rank is but the guineas' stamp," is reached. 
The vulgar slang of the street rather than the poet's gospel 
seems to be uppermost in consciousness. How can we guard 
against such occurrences? A simple preparation may be of 
service. Ask the class, "What is meant by 'the dollar is 
often the stamp of rank'?" "How would an English lad 
say the same sentence?" The answer which children have 
given very readily is, "The pound (£) is often the stamp 
of rank." "How would he say it if he thought of the de- 
nomination higher than the pound?" A titter pervades the 
class, but all the humor which the word can provoke is ex- 
pended and the line in question is read with the seriousness 
and the dignity that it merits. The experienced teacher un- 
doubtedly realizes that this is not an isolated example but 
one of a host of instances which daily class-room routine 
offers. 

(c) Through a wise choice of pictures and varied illus- 
trative material, the most effective emotional preparations can 
often be given with a few words from the teacher. Before 
reading that part of "Evangeline" which tells how the 
simple Acadian folk were banished and the members of 
their families scattered, let the class study the picture of 
the terror-stricken people spending the night preceding their 
departure on the shore, the little fires burning, Evangeline 



Apperception 283 

and Father Felician going about from group to group offer- 
ing consolation and inspiring hope. The reading of the 
"Wreck of Hesperus" may properly begin with the little 
picture found in many school readers. It shows the calm 
after the storm, a mast floating about, with a little girl lashed 
to it, the little girl frozen stiff and" her dishevelled hair 
shimmering on the water. Let the children look at the pic- 
ture and then try to devise a suitable story. When the chil- 
dren have conceived an appropriate narrative, the reading is 
begun after the teacher tells the class to compare their 
stories with the one Longfellow tells. It is a waste of time 
to listen to their conception. The children were asked to 
compose a story as a guarantee that they were in the proper 
apperceptive mood. 

Characteristics of a Good Aim. — As a final consideration 
of the "aim" in each preparatory step, we may ask, "Since 
the aim is so important, what essential qualities must it pos- 
sess?" The necessary characteristics are three: (a) It must 
foreshadow the approach of experience that is practical, con- 
crete, and necessary to the student, (b) The form of the 
statement must be short and simple, so that it may be kept, 
with great ease, as an ever-present guide throughout the 
entire lesson, (c) The nature of the statement must be at- 
tractive and designed to arouse the innate cravings of the 
child, so that there is a willingness on the part of the child 
to meet the difficulties attending the acquisition of the knowl- 
edge to be taught. These three essentials may gain in force 
if w r e see their worth in practical situations. 

A teacher was preparing the children for a new type of 
problem in percentage. After the necessary review the 
teacher announced, "We are now to learn what per cent, 
one number is of another." Such an aim violates the three- 
fold standard that was laid down and is invariably received 
with absolute indifference. While this form of example may 
have a practical value in life, it was not stated so that the 
children would see it. It lacks simplicity, for what mental 
content can such as abstract statement arouse in a child's 



284 Education as Mental Adjustment 

mind, whose knowledge of arithmetic is both limited and 
vague! Then, too, what does the average lad care "what 
percentage one number is of another"? 

Let the teachers present to a class of boys the list of base- 
ball players, or the standing of the various teams in the lead- 
ing leagues and ask* "How are these batting averages 
figured" or "How is the standing of each contesting team 
determined." How instantaneous is the response, as the 
spark of interest is kindled and fanned into the flame of 
effort, in whose path all difficulties disappear! If it is the 
custom of the principal to read to the assembled school the 
percentage of attendance of each class for the preceding 
week, the teacher can use this as the starting point. Only 
as we suceeed in correlating class-room lessons with life's 
real needs have we an absolute guarantee of a proper aim 
and its inestimable teaching advantages. 

II. Apperception Inspires Confidence in Pupils Because 
New Conclusions Are Direct Outgrowths of Their Own 
Knowledge. — Apperception has its use and merits its position 
in teaching, Home argues, because it inspires confidence 
in a child. It makes the child conscious of the fact that 
there is nothing altogether new in what is taught him, 
that he knew the conclusions and the reasons before, "the 
teacher only brought them out." It gives the child a feel- 
ing of self-reliance to find that the teacher is basing the new 
on the old. In teaching an adjective phrase, the teacher 
usually begins with a statement like "The gray-haired man 
is my father." The child is then asked to parse "gray- 
haired" and give reasons for calling it an adjective. The 
pupils must now change the one word to a phrase and some 
member of the class volunteers "The man with gray hair is 
my father." We elicit that "gray-haired" modifies father 
and that "with gray hair" functions in a similar manner. 
The class is then asked to suggest a name for the phrase; 
what other than "adjective phrase" can be given? So, too, 
in teaching the adjective clause, we may have the children 
change the sentence to read "The man, who has gray hair, is 



Apperception 285 

my father," and elicit that the clause "who has gray hair," 
like the phrase "with gray hair," or like the word "gray- 
haired," functions as an adjective. The children are again 
told to invent an appropriate name. "Adjective Clause" 
can be obtained from them with little effort. 

The child delights in being shown that he did it all, that 
if he really puts his whole mind on the task he can learn 
most of this subject-matter by himself. We may know better, 
but no harm is done in allowing the child to have this slightly 
exaggerated opinion of his powers. Home adds, ' ' They have 
done something for themselves and they feel it, the fount of 
knowing is springing up from within them and they recog- 
nize the truth, not because of the teacher's words, but as 
seeing for themselves." 

III. Apperception Reflects Need of Studying Pupils' 
Knowledge Basis. — Apperception also emphasizes the fact that 
teachers must study very carefully the pupil's knowledge 
basis. In receiving a new class the vital question must always 
be, "What do they know?" rather than "How much do they 
know?" The invariable complaint that we hear from teach- 
ers receiving a new class is that the children are stupid, far 
behind grade and deficient in the very work that should have 
decided their promotion. At the end of a fortnight the same 
teacher very modestly admits that the class is doing rather 
satisfactory work and that the general average is now con- 
siderably higher. These complaints can be explained by 
the fact that the teacher just promoted a class at least one 
term's work ahead of the new group; to go back to the start, 
to meet the same ignorance, solve the same difficulties, and 
again explain away the erroneous conceptions is rather diffi- 
cult. In the contrast between the class that left and the class 
that has come, the latter suffers much in the teacher's esti- 
mation, and the beginners must naturally appear backward 
and stupid. Then, too, the children are unaccustomed to 
the new teacher's ways and mannerisms. But the true rea- 
son for complaint is the fact that the teacher does not know 
the knowledge basis of the new class. In giving an illustra- 



286 Education as Menial Adjustment 

tion, in referring to incidents and examples, he does not 
always have recourse to the fund of knowledge possessed by 
the children, he does not appeal to their proper apperceptive 
stock. It takes a little time before he learns their knowl- 
edge status; then the apparent stupidity and backwardness 
decrease, for now examples and illustrations are drawn from 
what the children know in the other subjects, and new prin- 
ciples seem to be logical outgrowths of knowledge that is 
already in the minds of the pupils. 



SUGGESTED BEADING 

Bagley. Educative Process, Chaps. 4 and 5. 

De Garmo. Essentials of Methods, Chaps. 1 and 2. 

DuBois. The Point of Contact in Teaching. 

Hall. The Contents of Children's Minds. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 

James. Talks to Teachers, Chap. 14. 

Lange. Apperception. 

McMurry. Elements of General Method, Chap. 6. 

O'Shea. Education as Adjustment, Chap. 12. 

Eooper. A Pot of Green Feathers. 

Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 4. 



CHAPTER XVII 

MEMORY: HOW DOES THE MIND RETAIN THE KNOWLEDGE 
IT HAS ASSIMILATED? 

The initial question in the study of "Intellectual Train- 
ing" was "What Is the Function of the Intellect." The 
answer is two-fold : first, to bring that knowledge of the out- 
side world which is essential for the best and most har- 
monious adjustment of the individual, and, second, to inter- 
pret this knowledge by reading meaning and truth into it. 
The first function is performed by the mind's power to per- 
ceive what the sense organs bring, the second, by appercep- 
tion which enables us to interpret into intelligent knowledge, 
the empty, meaningless sensations. Granted that the new 
facts have been made part of our mental possessions, the next 
problem which arises is "How do we obtain permanent con- 
trol of them?" The answer brings us to a study of the 
mind's retentive power — its memory. Without this mental 
gift all progress of future generations would be halted, and 
personal education and advancement would be an unattain- 
able desideratum. Memory is the great conservator of ex- 
perience. 

Definitions of Basic Terms. — An oft-quoted definition of 
memory is the one formulated by James, viz., "The knowl- 
edge of an event or fact, which meantime we have not been 
thinking, with the additional consciousness that we have 
thought or experienced it before." According to the pre- 
scriptions of the definition, not only must we have a present 
image of past experience, but we must be conscious of the 
fact that this is only a re-experiencing of a similar mental 
state. The untruthful person tells of feats and achievements 
which never occurred ; this state of mind belongs to imagina- 

287 



288 Education as Mental Adjustment 

tion, not to memory. We see, therefore, the reason for the 
reservation in the definition, — that memory occurs only when 
we are reliving an experience that has been ours. 

When the experience is actually present before the senses, 
the mind's reaction gives rise to a percept, but when the ex- 
perience is revived, the mental result is an image. For 
future use in discussing imagination, we must pause to note 
the differences between a percept and an image. 

Percept Image 

1. It always depends on 1. It is only a revived 
the existence of something percept. Its physical stimu- 
that can stimulate the senses, lation and counterpart are 
It tends to be a counterpart absent. 

of reality. 

2. It is usually vivid 2. It is far less vivid 
and clear. and clear; it is often dim 

and undefined. 

3. It is involuntary as a 3. It is generally volun- 
rule. If the sensations from tary and results from the 
without are intense enough, mental effort to bring back 
the percept results without the past. Only in the rev- 
conscious direction or effort, erie and in very strong as- 
sociation is the image invol- 
untary. 

We must not only keep percept and image apart, but 
we must also be careful not to consider what psychology 
terms an "after-percept" as a transitional state from the 
one to the other. An after-percept is a continued percept, 
due to a continued state of excitation of an afferent or in- 
carrying nerve. As one looks at the setting sun he has a 
percept of a golden ball of fire. As he turns away the per- 
cept vanishes. But after looking at the sun at high noon, 
one sees on looking away blotches of light, or even the out- 
line of the sun itself before him. This is neither a percept 
nor an image in the sense in \Vhieh these terms were de- 
fined. It is an after-percept, explained by the fact that, de- 



Memory 289 

spite the absence of the object seen, the stimulation proved 
to be so intense that the nerves remain in a state of excita- 
tion. The illustrations in the physical world are many. A 
bell struck by its hammer continues in a state of vibration 
for some seconds after the blow. So, too, the nervous sys- 
tem, still vibrating from the excitation, continues the 
percept. 

Kinds of Memory. — In educational and psychological dis- 
cussion various kinds of memory are referred to, each having 
its own peculiar differentia. In the main, these types of 
memory are differentiated on the basis of association of 
ideas, on the one hand, or the intensity of effort required 
for reproduction, on the other. 

Mechanical vs. Logical Memory. — With association of 
ideas as the basis of memory, we may have mechanical 
memory as opposed to logical memory. In the former, events 
are connected in the mind because they are contiguous in 
space or in time. It is a chance organization with no other 
rational basis than mere accidental coincidence. To tell the 
beginner in reading that the following word-pictures, 
"father," "boy," are father and boy respectively, to tell 
pupils that "in the ante-bellum days the northern states 
were commercial while the southern ones were agricultural," 
or to regale them with the information that "the products 
of Brazil are coffee, cocoa, fine woods, tar, rubber, etc.," is 
to teach by appealing to mechanical memory. But when 
facts are grouped because of inherent likenesses or differ- 
ences, or because of an underlying relationship of cause and 
effect, the appeal is to the logical memory. The teacher who 
groups words on a phonetic basis, teaching "fail," "tail," 
"sail," "rail," by emphasizing the phonogram "ail," thus 

> ail, the teacher who reviews conditions of climate and 

7/ 

topography and then leads the children to infer that the 
northern states engaged in commercial pursuits while their 
southern neighbors developed agricultural interests, the 



290 Education as Mental Adjustment 

teacher who leads the children to deduce the products of 
Brazil in the light of the physical conditions, the resources 
and the industries of the country, — these are striving to place 
facts on a basis of logical memory, and are in that measure 
approaching "education" rather than "training." 

Recollection vs. Remembrance. — A second classification of 
memory which makes effort rather than association the basis 
of distinction, differentiates "recollection" from "remem- 
brance." Recollection is that state of recall which demands 
considerable effort, and is therefore entirely voluntary. 
Much of the memory needed in ordinary class-room recita- 
tions and in study is recollection. The student who tries to 
recall a name, a date, a series of facts, etc., exemplifies this 
type of memory — a form of recall in which facts appear to 
be "dragged into consciousness." 

Remembrance, on the contrary, is that state of recall in 
which facts follow one another easily and speedily. With- 
out any appreciable effort, images after images come and 
go. This recall is almost automatic and characterizes the 
reverie. In remembrance there is a feeling of satisfaction in 
re-experiencing the old. iu reliving to-day w T hat is of yester- 
day, for images seem to "leap into consciousness." 

In teaching, the aim must be to change recollection to 
remembrance through proper association. This would tend 
to reduce the element of drudgery experienced in trying to 
retain facts grouped arbitrarily. Reproduction would then 
become an involuntary rather than a voluntary process. A 
cursory view of these kinds of memory will readily show the 
student that logical associations tend to develop a mastery 
of old facts which places them in the realm of remembrance, 
while a mechanical, arbitrary association gives less auto- 
matic recall and approximates recollection. 

The Nature and Psychology of Memory. — I. Memory vs. 
Memories. — There are souk- guiding truths about memory 
that we must now consider, for they have had a dominating 
influence in changing methods and aims of teaching. Tin- 
first of these principles is reflected in the question, "Is there 



Memory 291 

a memory?" We are constantly speaking of a person with 
a good memory, a bad memory, an enviable memory, but, in 
the light of psychological knowledge, it is a grave error to 
conceive of a memory. We must ever be wary of consider- 
ing memory as a special faculty of the mind, a mental store- 
house, the duty of which it is to retain experiences and serve 
them up to us at our command. Psychology tells us, in un- 
mistakable words, there is no memory, as such. A simple 
explanation may bring conviction. 

Psychological Explanation of Memories. — Every percept 
is due to a number of contributing conditions ; chief among 
them we enumerate: (1) an excitation or a series of excita- 
tions are taken up by the eye, the ear, the tactile areas, etc. ; 
(2) these neural stimulations are now transmitted along a 
set of afferent nerves to their respective areas in the cortex 
of the brain; (3) the sensations which follow are recognized 
and interpreted and the mind becomes conscious of the ex- 
ternal object; the percept now results. Every one of these 
neural excitations follows its own neural route to its par- 
ticular destination. But when a stimulus affects a sense 
organ, the result is a change of a chemical or mechanical 
nature. This change in tissue causes a current of excitation 
to travel toward the brain centers. . Every stimulus that is 
taken up by the nervous system causes its own nerve and 
brain path. The central nervous system, especially the nerve 
centers, holds in captivity a mass of paths which are only 
new arrangements of molecules in the nerve tissue designed 
to make easier the transit of future, similar impulses. Every 
visual impression causes a nerve and brain path to be formed 
to the visual center; an auditory impression produces in like 
manner a neural path to the auditory center; this phenome- 
non is repeated for each sense function. The brain is there- 
fore not the safety deposit vault of our facts; it is rather 
an accumulation of these old nerve ruts and avenues. 

Recall Is a Restimulation of Brain Paths. — Since these 
are the processes set in motion when percepts are acquired, 
they must be the very ones that will be operative in recall- 



292 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ing the percept. To revive an old percept, to stir an image 
of old experience, we must re-stimulate in one manner or 
another these old brain paths. If we are trying to recall the 
image "orange" we revive: 1. the visual path, V p , 2. the 
taste or gustatory path, G p , 3. the tactile path, T p , 4. the 
muscular path (formed when the orange was held or the 
hand moved over its surface), M p , etc. The image "orange" is 
hence a composite of a number of specific images, the visual 
image V, the gustatory image G 1 , etc. These separate images 
fuse because of the untold number of cross relations and con- 
necting fibers in the brain, and there results a complete pic- 
ture of the orange. Symbolically, the explanation becomes 
more graphic, for it may be represented thus: V p plus G p 
plus T" plus M p . . . . equals V plus G' plus. .. .equals Com- 
plete Image. We see, then, that the complete image is not 
stored away in any one center or in its entirety. We have no 
one memory of "orange," but a number of memories, a visual 
memory, a tactile memory, an auditory memory, in a word, 
a memory for each sense. "The Memory" is hence the 
economic form of the expression, "The Sum Total of the 
Memories. ' ' 

The Memories Not of Equal Efficiency. — These separate 
memories are not of equal efficiency and power. Thus the 
eagle has his visual sense best developed, the dog the sense 
of smell; some savage beasts have excellent auditory powers. 
.Man being at the head of the animal chain reflects the char- 
ad eristics of one or the other of his biological ancestors. It 
is not surprising therefore to find that some children can re- 
member best what they see; they have a good visual memory 
and are called eye-minded or visuals; others are gifted with 
better auditory memories and recall easily what they hear; 
these people are known as audiles; still others, the third 
class, are called motors, because they remember through 
execution. 

This conception of memories explains two common de- 
fective forms of apperception, apraxia and aphasia. The 
person suffering from the former, apraxia, has lost the 



Memory 293 

memory of things. Objects presented to the senses give rise 
to sensations, but, since the memory for similar things is 
dead, the person does not recognize a chair, a watch, a pencil ; 
he is utterly ignorant of their use. An abstract noun may 
receive recognition sooner than the concrete form. The lat- 
ter ailment, aphasia, is more common. In this condition the 
patient shows a positive loss of one of his memories, usually 
the memory for words. A person suffering from visual 
aphasia sees a word but does not recognize what he read and 
wrote so many times in his past life; if the word is read to 
him by another, the idea leaps into the mind, for the audi- 
tory memory is alive. Patients suffering from auditory 
aphasia fail to derive any meaning from spoken language. 
The object itself or the printed symbol will bring recognition 
much sooner, for the visual memory retains its original 
power. If we had a memory rather than memories, such 
phenomena would be impossible, for we would either fail in 
all aspects of recall or enjoy all powers of memory simul- 
taneously. 

II. The Increase in Retentive Power. — A very important 
question for the teacher in all memory work is naturally, 
"Can an individual's retentive power be increased?" Tra- 
dition answers affirmatively and prescribes "memorizing 
very much" as the mental gymnastics that will develop this 
capacity. Modern psychology is almost unanimous in its 
very decided negative answer, for it believes that a person's 
native retentive power is fixed at birth. If the psycho- 
physiological process offered as an explanation of memories 
is true, the negative answer follows inevitably in consistent 
thought. Every one of our experiences of the past was 
registered in the central nervous system by the neural path 
of excitation which announced it. Recall of old experience 
is rendered possible b}^ the restimulation of these paths. 
Since these paths condition both retention and recall, it 
naturally follows that the medium, the substance, through 
which they pass will, in the last analysis, determine the effi- 
ciency of both retention and recollection. Some brain sub- 



294 Education as Mental Adjustment 

stances are waxlike in quality; although they are not ultra- 
sensitive to every new impulse, an impression once made 
tends to remain fixed. Other brain substances approximate 
a jelly-like substance; impressions come quickly and easily 
from the varied experiences in the routine of life, but they 
disappear just as readily ; these brain substances are receivers 
but not retainers. The degree of impressionability and re- 
tention of each brain differs just as the quality of muscular 
fiber, the richness of the blood, and the healing power of 
flesh vary in every person. 

These characteristics are not peculiar to brain tissue 
alone. All living tissue has the two-fold property of im- 
pression and retention. Any habit of action is a living proof 
of this phenomenon. Recent progress in the inorganic 
sciences shows that even inanimate matter, under certain con- 
ditions, possesses impressionability and retention. The pho- 
tographer's plate and the phonographic record are illustra- 
tions of inanimate memory. The same fact is seen in the 
violin, for we are told, "The sounds of a violin improve in 
the hands of an able artist, because the fibers of the wood at 
last contract habits of vibration conformed to harmonic re- 
lation." Evidence can be multiplied without end to sup- 
port the conclusion that "All matter, organic or inorganic, is 
capable of memory." 

In the light of this physiological explanation of the effi- 
ciency of the memory, an increase in native retentive power 
is hopeless. The only method of producing a radical and 
telling improvement is to change the nature of the brain sub- 
stance, to make the fickle jelly-like brain wax-like, or the 
obdurate unimpressionable brain more sensitive, so that ex- 
perience will be registered more readily. Either task must 
still be left to the province of the Creator. It follows, there- 
fore, that the law, "Each individual's native retentive power 
is fixed and constant," must be regarded as basic and ir- 
revocable in teaching. 

Health and Retention. — Since memory, which consists of 
registration and retention, is a physiological phenomenon and 



Memory 295 

is conditioned by the brain tissue, there must be a very inti- 
mate relation between health and ability to recall. Whatever 
adds to bodily vigor and energy helps promote the brain's 
function of retention. After sleep and rest one recalls and 
retains better than in the hours of fatigue and ill health. 
Bodily conditions not only affect the character of our judg- 
ments and reasoning, but they show more rapid and positive 
influences on memory. This fact has its application in the 
classroom. It tells the teacher that a drill period placed at 
halfpast eleven in the morning or at halfpast two in the after- 
noon is bad, for these are the periods of greatest fatigue. An 
arithmetic lesson of ninety minutes with a sixth year class 
usually wastes the second half of the long weary period, for 
retention decreases with the growing fatigue. Because of the 
same law, maximum efficiency does not obtain in study 
periods assigned for the last half hour of the afternoon ses- 
sion. Examinations should be given early in the day and 
should not all be crowded into one session. There seems to 
be an unwritten law which sets Friday apart as the day for 
tests. The conveniences the day offers are offset by the 
tedium and strain of a close succession of examinations. 
"Written quizzes and tests should be scattered through the 
week so that the child can do justice to himself by answer- 
ing the questions in the most favorable hours of the day. 

Spurious Evidence of Increased Retentivity. — Untruthful 
and unscientific experiments are often quoted and spurious, 
well-advertised schemes are advanced, as evidence of in- 
creased retentive power. Reliable experimentation shows 
that an individual who memorizes a number of poems will 
not enjoy a greater ability in learning the last one by heart. 
He may discover petty tricks and devices of study which 
tend to reduce the effort here and there, but this result does 
not evidence increased memory power. James, Pillsbury and 
Bolton, among others, quote their own experiments, which 
show that continued practice in daily memory drills brought 
retentive power that was usually lessened for general pur- 
poses. Individuals have not only fixed retentive ability, but 



296 Education as Mental Adjustment 

when gifted in memory power show especial capability for 
one specific kind of association. Some people remember 
prose readily, but not poetry, others with a sense of rhythm 
and cadence show the contrary ; still others can carry in 
memory names, or figures, or faces, or colors, or forms, etc., 
showing their retentiveness for some one rather than for all 
of these. Actors of repute report that every new part re- 
quires as much study as they bestowed on their lines early 
in their careers. Where less time is consumed they always 
attribute the fact to an improved method of study, a system- 
atic grouping of ideas, the memorization of ideas before 
words, etc. This must be regarded as a better method of 
thinking, a better and wiser use of native retentive power, 
rather than an increase of it. 

The story is told that Thurlow "Weed, the famous New 
York political leader, had a poor memory. To acquire bet- 
ter control of the day's experiences, he decided to review the 
daily details to his wife, every evening. After a few weeks 
of this practice he found that he could recall his daily affairs 
more readily and that he had less recourse to his note books 
and memoranda. This is a typical example of the host of 
illustrations offered to prove that retentiveness can be in- 
creased. The case in consideration proves that with a differ- 
ent mode of utilizing one's memory power one may use it 
to greater advantage. Heretofore, what happened merely 
happened. But under the new system each occurrence 
brought with it the conscious thought, "I must remember 
this, it must be told at home." Each experience was espe- 
cially emphasized and subjected to special thought and asso- 
ciation. A great variety of new modes of mental life can 
readily be devised which will give a better hold on the de- 
tails of daily experience. These will be explained in a later 
connection. 

The physical world offers many analogies showing in- 
creased efficiency due to a wiser use of native power. A 
blacksmith may have as much lifting strength as a piano 
mover, but the latter can lilt better than the former because 
he uses what strength he has more efficiently. An inex- 



Memory 297 

perienced worker is shown how to hold his tools. He now 
turns out more and better work, due not to increased energy 
but to a wise use of the energy that is his. 

The Drill Important. — The practical teacher must be 
careful in applying this view of memory in teaching. To 
assign long lists for memorization, to teach geography by 
a memorization of the text in the book, to demand that chil- 
dren commit to memory chronological tables in history be- 
cause all these develop the child's memory, are practices 
which are evidently in flagrant violation of psychological 
truth. But there is danger of too strong a reaction with the 
modern conception of the problem. With the acceptance of 
the conclusion that memory power cannot be increased, it 
does not follow that memory work is to be neglected or the 
drill frowned upon. We must remember that, aside from the 
broad aims of education, we must give the children a knowl- 
edge of the basic facts in the essential subjects. No matter 
how skillful the explanation and how thorough the compre- 
hension of the facts, they will be crowded into the dark 
nooks and crannies of the mind, unless they are reenforced 
by memory appeals. If the drill is the only means of giving 
permanence to knowledge, then the drill must be emphasized. 



> 



a A > 

a / b 



r 

The observing teacher may have found that progress in 
learning is never continuous. Each child seems to show "a 
no-learning period" followed by a "rapid-learning period," 
an alternation of stationary and progressive stages. Of the 
two periods, the former seems to occupy a much larger part 
of the educational period. The curve of learning may be 
represented graphically as is shown in the figure above, "a" 
representing the "no-learning periods" and "b" the "pro- 
gressive periods." 
20 



298 Education as Mental Adjustment 

A superficial aspect of the learning curve may seem to 
show an organization that hinders the most rapid progress. 
Closer study shows us that the contrary is true. The 
plateaus (b) mark the stages in acquisition of knowledge 
when facts learned sink deep and are made to function as 
habit. Without these "no-learning periods," progress would 
be extremely illusive and transitory ; with them, it is gradual 
and permanent. The conclusion for well-graded work with 
ample opportunity for drill is too apparent to the teacher 
to need more than mere passing mention. 

III. The Persistency of Memory. — The layman usually 
underestimates the permanence of mental acquisitions be- 
cause of repeated embarrassment at failures to recall past 
experiences at the critical moment. The memory of any ex- 
perience is always coexistent with life itself. Every idea 
comprehended, every emotion felt, every situation lived 
through, makes its indelible impress upon the whole nervous 
system and changes the individual in direct proportion to 
its influence. While it is true that one has not that control 
of old mental possessions which enables him to recall any ele- 
ment at will, it is nevertheless equally true that, in point of 
time, the dynamic results of all past experience are parallel 
with life itself. Psychology has gathered overwhelming evi- 
dence of the lifelong persistency of memory. People who 
have forgotten their native tongue, spoken in youth, often 
express the ravings of a fevered brain in the language of 
their earlier years. Clergymen have repeatedly testified that 
Americanized foreigners, praying before the end, have often 
relapsed into their old language with a fluency and accuracy 
which they could not attain in their calmer days. People 
saved from drowning or from imminent death invariably 
tell of a panorama of past events that flitted through their 
minds; scenes of early youth, visions of parents not seen 
since early youth, and the like, give proof of the belief that 
memory is coexistent with life. We may not be able to re- 
call an event in the even tenor of life's routine. Its im- 
pression on the nervous system is a permanent record, which 



Memory 299 

very often can be disclosed only by a stimulus of the proper 
vigor and intensity. Our knowledge of instinct, of racial 
characteristics, of hereditary influences suggests the idea that 
memory is racial and may persist even longer than the life 
of the individual. 

How Can Native Retentive Power Be Used to Greatest 
Advantage? — Although native retentive power is fixed at 
birth, it is evident that few people utilize their memory gift 
to the fullest extent. The problem that now arises for the 
teacher is "What can be done in the course of instruction 
and study to enable each child to avail himself of the maxi- 
mum capacity of his native memory power?" A few con- 
structive suggestions for methods of teaching can be offered. 
Since recall is due primarily to the restimulation of old brain 
paths, the aids and devices offered seek to affect these nerve 
ruts and make them permanent. Effective recall is deter- 
mined by the conditions that we now set forth. 

I. Attention and Concentration. — The simple formula 
which holds true in all teaching is, "The greater the atten- 
tion to the work at hand, the deeper is the impression made 
upon the mind." Those facts acquired while the mind is 
engaged exclusively upon only one topic will cling with 
greater tenacity. We forget a number of important topics 
and essential elements in the course of our daily experience, 
yet how well we remember the questions, our answers, and 
even the petty incidents of an important examination ! 
"Each mind becomes especially retentive in the direction in 
which its interests lie." Thus, the athlete, who forgets the 
facts of his studies, remembers accurately all the athletic 
records of years, the canvasser remembers places and faces, 
but forgets important occurrences; Mozart wrote the Miserere 
of the Sistine Chapel from memory after hearing it twice. 
This "especially strong retentive power in the line of inter- 
ests" results not from an increased memory power but from 
the fact that so much added concentration and attention are 
given these particular experiences that the impression is 
greatly intensified and is hence rendered lasting. 



300 Education as Mental Adjustment 

II. Vividness in Presentation. — It is our common ex- 
perience that the habitual and the monotonous are not re- 
membered. The situation that is novel makes its impress be- 
cause the mere newness gives it an clement of vividness. 
"Wli.it did I have For Ihis morning's breakfast?" may be 
a difficult question to answer. To name the minute incidents 
of a disaster witnessed years ago seems a more reasonable 
question; the vividness of the experience made the impression 
indelible and the recall of the event is almost automatic. 
First impressions are most Lasting because they are the most 
vivid. To teach a physics lesson by starting with the experi- 
ment rather than with the explanation of the phenomenon, 
to present a topic in history through a proper dramatization, 
to lead the children to acquire the meaning of new words 
through motorizing them, to teach that 231 cubic inches = 1 
gallon by having children construct a box of 7 x 11 x 3 inches, 
— are all means which not only add interest to the presenta- 
tion but also increase the retention of these facts by the vivid- 
ness with which they enter consciousness and impress them- 
selves upon the mind. Since one interprets all new knowledge 
in any subject in terms of past acquisitions, it follows that the 
teacher must exercise great care in giving the proper initial 
impressions in each branch of knowledge. The vividness of 
the impression is hence another determining element in 
effective retention, for it, too, deepens the brain path that 
must be re-stimulated. 

III. Frequency, Recency, and Regularity of Repetition. 
— The physiological conception of registration and retention 
makes apparent the need of repetition as a process of deepen- 
ing nerve paths. But mere repetition will not suffice 
unless there are frequency ami regularity in the duplications, 
for the impressions originally made become dim and lose in 
force and in readiness to respond to an impulse of recall. Ex- 
perimentors find thai it is usually the closeness of the succes- 
sion and not the number of successions thai is the most im- 
portant factor in making a well-worn brain rut. It follows 
therefore that greater retentiveness can be developed by a 



Memory 301 

daily program of short periods in which topics can be re- 
peated frequently than by one in which the time given to each 
lesson is protracted. The elementary school teacher, who 
must give one himdred and twenty minutes each week to 
geography, will reap better results from four "thirty-minute 
periods" than from three "forty-minute periods." Although 
the sum totals are the same, all conditions being equal, the 
impressions in the former are more lasting than in the 
latter. 

IV. The Multiple Sense Appeal in the Lesson. — The gen- 
eral educational justification for this principle was seen in 
the consideration of the problem of sense training. To con- 
nect this topic with memory it is only necessary to empha- 
size the fact that the greater the number of senses appealed 
to the greater is the number of brain paths formed ; hence 
the greater the possibility to re-stimulate one or more of 
this greater number of paths. This suggestion finds its illus- 
tration in the teaching of spelling. The teacher is advised 
not only to syllabicate and define the word but also to pro- 
nounce it to the class, to write it in large bold letters on the 
board, to spell it to the children as it is being written. The 
children have thus far a visual, an auditory, and a muscular 
impression of it ; they are then asked to repeat it a number 
of times, individually? or in concert, and then to write it in 
the air or on paper. This is followed by a visualization of 
the word. Every possible sense appeal has thus been made. 
Some will remember the word because they are eye-minded, 
others because they are ear-minded, still others because they 
are motor-minded. It is plain therefore that the fusion of 
many sense impressions will give not only a clear percept 
but one that is more lasting and easier to recall. 

V. The Proper Organization, of Knowledge. — How shall 
we group our facts? This is the determining question when 
we seek maximum retention. In general, the law seems to 
be, the greater the thought appeal, the more rational the con- 
nection, the more easily can the mind retain and recall what 
we entrust to it. Let us apply this tendency concretely. 



302 Education as Mental Adjustment 

In a previous connection we distinguished between 

mechanical and logical memory. Their true difference is one 
of association. The student reads of various kinds of asso- 
ciation, association by similarity, contrast, contiguity, cause 
and effect. But in the final analysis there can be only one 
kind of association. We must distinguish "association" 
from "suggestion," and "kind of grouping." James, Lloyd 
Morgan and other psychologists have repeatedly insisted on 
the distinction. Co-existing, sequential experience is the only 
kind of association that the mind recognizes. Association 
has specific reference to the mode in which ideas impress 
themselves upon the mind; it deals therefore with the prob- 
lem of mental registration. Suggestion, on the other hand, 
concerns itself with the mode in which ideas group themselves 
and follow one another; it refers therefore to mental recall. 
In systematizing knowledge that is to be taught, the teacher 
must seek a grouping of ideas that will have a maximum 
rational or causal basis. 

Relative Retentive Value of Mechanical vs. Logical Or- 
ganization. — Knowledge may be classed under two heads. 
The simplest grouping is the mechanical, which merely fol- 
lows the accidental sequence in which experience occurs. Be- 
cause events happen in time and space, they are so taught. 
The Rhine River flows north and the Rhone River south; in 
words like deceive, believe, "c" takes "ei," and "1" takes 
"ie;" these are examples of such mechanical grouping. 
But having no rational basis such facts are readily forgot- 
ten. In an attempt to aid the mind by relieving it of some 
of the drudgery of mechanical grouping, teachers invent 
ingenious mnemonics, "Rhine" recalls "i" of "high," to the 
north. Rhone brings "o" of "low," to the south; "ei" fol- 
lows "c" because "e" is nearer to "c" than "i," and "ie" 
follows "1" by the same law of proximity. Ofttimes these 
artificial attempts to introduce a semblance of reason require 
more effort for mastery than the original facts. Such group- 
ing is frequently known as "association by contiguity" and 
prompts mechanical memory. 



Memory 



303 



But knowledge organized on a basis of kindred causes, 
similarity of form, cause and effect relation leads to rational 
memory and is more lasting. "We must remember that when- 
ever we reason a fact out, we also reason it in. How easily 
do we forget what we cram for an examination ! Nothing is 
thought out, no reason is sought at any step ; the attempt ,is 
made to hold to a fact arbitrarily as long as is necessary. 
The examination usually marks the end of such an im- 
pression. Actual experiments with children give us con- 
clusive proof of the greater permanency of the rational 
memory. 

A class of children was put to studying a list of non- 
sense syllables and also a stanza of a simple and interesting 
poem containing at least as many syllables. The results are 
indicated in the following tables: 





No. of 
Chr. 


No. of Repetitions Required 




1° day 


2° day 


3° day 


4° day 


5° day 


6° day 


Nonsense Syllables . . . 

Stanza, "The Blue and 

the Gray" 


24 
24 


26 . 50 
9.75 


16 
5.50 


9.50 
3 


5 
.50 


3 



2 

d 



Application to Teaching of Memory Gems. — In teaching 
a memory selection, the children were directed to learn the 
first stanza, line by line, and then the second, sentence by 
sentence. It was invariably found that when the latter pro- 
cess was used the time was curtailed by 30 to 40 per cent. 
The reason is obvious. The thought element in the organiza- 
tion of facts places the exercise in the realm of rational 
memory. 

Children who enter school without knowing the alphabet 
usually remember such words as father, boy, toy, etc., much 
more easily than single isolated letters like y. f. t. o. In the 
one case the symbol is connected with n known idea, in the 



304 Education as Mental Adjustment 

other both are equally unknown. Hence early reading should 
begin with words and sentences rather than letters. 

This principle of organization can be applied with grati- 
fying success in the teaching of memory selections. The 
average lesson on a "Memory Gem" emphasizes the 
"memory" element to the exclusion of the "gem." Because 
of the prevailing method, "gem" seems a misnomer to the 
children. After the selection is explained in a general way, 
the successive lines arc subjected to a drill, which consists of 
repetition, oral and written, until the children can recite the 
assignment from memory, with the required ease and rapid- 
ity. Whether this end is achieved by a repetition of line by 
line, or sentence by sentence, makes but little difference as far 
as the cli i Id's attitude or appreciation is concerned. One is as 
deadening and as uninspirational as the other. The method 
must be changed from a memory to a thought appeal so 
that the literary gem becomes a source of keen appreciation, 
a symbol fraught with ideas and suggestions. The proper 
presentation of such a lesson must be an illustration of the 
psychological maxim, "The art of remembering is the art of 
thinking." A good memory is selective and discriminative; 
its chief concern is thoughtful organization around rational 
centers. 

To make concrete these generalizations governing the 
"Memory Gem," let us outline a lesson on "Abou Ben 
Adhem" as it should be given to a fifth or sixth year grade. 

ABOU BEN ADHEM 

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) 
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, 
Ami saw within the moonlight in his room, 
Making it rich, like a lily in bloom, 
An angel, writing in a book of gold: 
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, 
Ami to the presence in the room ho said, 
"Whal writesl thou.''' The vision raised its head, 

And, with :i look made of all swoot accord, 

Answered, ''The names of those who love the Lord." 



Memory 305 

"And is mine one?" "Nay, not so," 

Beplied the angel. Abou spoke more low, 

But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then, 

Write me as one that loves his f ellowmen. ' ' 

The angel wrote and vanished. The next night 

It came again, with great awakening light, 

And showed the names whom love of God has blessed, 

And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. 

— Hunt. 

The selection should first be used for an intensive read- 
ing lesson whose aim is the mastery of technical difficulties, 
thorough comprehension and appreciation. Because of the 
force of the appeal, the beauty of the picture, the sincerity 
of its message, the teacher can readily arouse in the children 
the desire to memorize the poem for recitation and dramatiza- 
tion. The first step in the memorization consists in asking 
the children to select the successive ideas and to learn them 
in their rational development. The child evolves, "Abou 
wakes from a peaceful sleep and sees an angel. The angel 
writes in a book ; he lights up the room. Abou is brave and 

asks etc." This is accomplished very readily and gives 

the child a framework of thought for the wording. The 
child reciting his memorized selection usually thinks of the 
"next word," "the next line," and therefore gives a mechan- 
ical, verbal rendition. The first step insures rational recall 
for the child thinks of the "next idea." Even if the words 
should fail the pupil, the proper idea is foremost in his mind 
and he can more readily suit the word to the thought. 

The next progressive step in the lesson requires that the 
teacher subject each idea to a question which the child 
answers in the words of the poem. The following is an 
actual reproduction of this part of the lesson: 

Tr. "How does the poem open?" 

Child. "With a blessing on Abou." 

Tr. "Prove your answer correct." 

Child. "Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)." 

Tr. "What was Abou doing?" "Prove your answer." 

Child. "Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace." 



306 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Tr. ' ' What did he see ? " " How do you know ? ' ' 
Child. ' ' And saw an angel writing in a book of gold. ' ' 
Tr. "What did the angel do to the room?" 
Child. "Made it rich like a lily in bloom." 
The succeeding questions ask, "How would you have felt 
under the circumstances?" "How did Abou feel?" "How- 
do you know this?" "What question does he address to the 
angel?" etc. 

Having made each important constituent idea the topic 
of a question and the means of reproducing the language of 
the author, the class is now asked a series of questions, each 
of which requires a rapid review of the entire selection for 
a thought purpose. As types of these questions we may 
suggest : 

"What line gives the prettiest picture?" 
"What line is most like poetry? Most like prose?" 
"What line tells most of Abou?" 
"What line gives the lesson of the poem?" 
"What line suggests the ending of the poem?" 
"What line is easiest to memorize?" 
"What line is hardest to learn?" 

In all these questions the children are sent on no fool's 
errand; the teacher can justify the procedure when these 
queries are answered by asking, "Who will volunteer to 
recite the poem by heart?" In the average class fifty 
to sixty per cent, of the pupils should be ready with a fluent, 
thoughtful rendition despite the entire absence of the old- 
fashioned drill of conning the assignment over and over. 
Every idea has been thought out ; every idea has therefore 
been thought in. The poem is held firmly in consciousness 
by rational not mechanical hooks; — these are the mental 
hooks of steel. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Anoell. Psychology, Chap. '.'. 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chaps. 13 and 14. 



Memory 30' 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 10. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chaps. 16 and 18. 

Kay. The Memory: How to Improve It. 

Bibot. Diseases of the Memory. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chaps. 9 and 10. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

IMAGINATION: HOW DOES THE MIND PICTUEE WHAT IT 

RETAINS? 

Nature of Imagination. — The layman conceives imagina- 
tion as a vivid and fantastic mental activity that paints day 
dreams and builds Utopias. To him, imagination never 
descends to the commonplace of life's daily routine. The 
psycho-physiological explanation of memory foreshadows a 
less whimsical and chimerical conception. 

In a previous connection we discussed the advantages of 
teaching the land forms through the senses, by actual crea- 
tion. If the children are later asked to call up the picture 
of an isthmus, they re-stimulate their old impressions, and 
after some few moments they have before them an image 
which is an exact counterpart of the small clay model they 
molded. The old image was reproduced because their 
memory power retained the old sense impression and the 
nerve paths that were registered in the brain. The picture 
in the mind's eye is the creation of the imagination. 

The teacher may add: — "Suppose the isthmus were so 
large, that, instead of spanning it with your two fingers, it 
took you five days to walk it at the rate of twenty miles a 
day; a trolley car would have to run at least ten hours at 
ten miles an hour to cross it; it is so wide that eight Manhat- 
tan Islands could be stretched across it;. ... " If the teacher 
continued recalling old elements in the varied experience of 
the pupil and added them to this reproduced memory image, 
she would finally arouse in the child's mind a richer picture 
of an isthmus, which would be named "Suez." This elab- 
orated, reshaped image is also a product of the child's imag- 
ination, but evidently it is imagination of a higher form. 

308 



Imagination 309 

Definition. — Imagination has been defined in various and 
ingenious ways, but they all aim to emphasize the same basic 
idea. We can submit the following as model definitions: 
"Consciousness of objects not before the senses" (Angell) ; 
"The process of image making" (Dexter and Garlick) ; The 
mind's process of picturing experiences or combining them 
into new forms. 

Forms of Imagination. — From the illustrations which were 
cited in explanation of imagination it is obvious that the 
mind's image-making power can express itself in two forms 
or degrees. 

Reproductive Imagination is the first of these and occurs 
when the mind simply images any fact or event as it was 
perceived. This is an exact reproduction of past experience 
and characterizes the states of mind in remembering. The 
image is thus an exact replica of the original experience. It 
is evident, therefore, that, without imagination, there can be 
no memory, for, strictly speaking, the memory is the retentive 
power, whereas, the imagination is the image-producing 
power; the one supplies the materials, the other paints the 
picture. 

Reproductive Imagination is opposed to Productive or 
Creative Imagination. In this form the individual's mind 
is more than a mere duplicating machine. It takes as many 
old elements and ideas as are necessary or available, and 
weaves them into a new combination, an original mosaic of 
thought. It is productive imagination that differentiates the 
truly imaginative genius from the mediocre man, the painter 
from the photographer, the inventor and initiator from the 
blind plodder, the reformer, the active leader in society, from 
the stupidly contented average man, or from the mere fault- 
finder who has not enough creative mind to offer constructive 
criticism. It is reproductive imagination that preserves our 
inheritance, it is productive imagination that makes each suc- 
ceeding heritage richer and loftier. 

Imagination and the New. — Nevertheless we must not sup- 
pose that there can be anything entirely new in creative imag- 



310 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ination. Just as in the physical world we can create nothing 
essentially new, so, too, are we limited in the psychic sphere. 
In the highest kind of productive work, in the most radical in- 
novation, there is fundamentally nothing new. Every con- 
stituent element of the final product is old, but the grouping, 
the resulting combination, is new and unprecedented. All 
invention is therefore only new form of old matter. This 
conception does not in the least limit the scope of originality. 
The possibilities for new and varied forms, the permutation ; 
and combinations of old experience are infinite. 

In the last analysis all imagination must have a perceptual 
basis of real data supplied by the senses. An absolutely new 
thing cannot be imaged. A person blind from early youth 
cannot see color in his mind's eye, nor can the congenitally 
deaf have any true notion of sound. These unfortunates 
must necessarily know fewer phases of the world than their 
normal brothers, for the visual and auditory sides of life are 
forever denied them. The sadness of the life of perpetual 
silence and night that Helen Keller lives is brought home all 
the more strongly because of the almost ecstatic joy which 
she feels even in her limited imagery. 

Psychological Processes in Creative Imagination. — 
The complete dependence of imagination upon actual expe- 
rience is seen in the successive steps through which the mind 
passes in its image-producing activity. In all creative imagi- 
nation there are three main processes that make the final 
image possible. The first is a process of recall of old events 
and kindred experiences necessary for the formation of the 
new picture. This is followed by a dissociate activity in 
which the mind selects out of the old knowledge particular 
facts, events, and details which will become the elements of 
the final image. Through association, a combination of the 
isolated details, the mind completes the picture it is trying 
to create. 

This analysis finds its application in the class room. The 
teacher reads the story of "Bluebeard" to a class of first- 
year children. Before they can have a picture of Bluebeard 



Imagination 311 

the children must be reminded of the giant they saw at the 
circus, of the pictures of the old castles on fortified hills seen 
in readers of folklore and mythology, and finally of the long- 
bearded Norse pirates who are shown in the beginning of the 
books on American history. They then select such details 
as are necessary — the height of the giant, a strong castle on 
a hill, the terrible eyes of the Norse pirates — and neglect such 
material as seems needless. The chosen details are then com- 
bined into some form approximating the desired picture, and 
the required fantastic or imagined effect is obtained. The 
artist striving to "compose" an imaginary landscape, the 
writer trying to construct an imaginary story or scene, must 
go through these three steps of recall, dissociation of required 
elements, association of selected details into the required com- 
bination, just as the child does. In trying to lead a child to 
imagine a circumstance in history, a place in geography, a sit- 
uation in literature, we must aid the pupil by suggesting 
what to call up, what elements to seize upon, and which to 
subordinate in order to obtain a rich mental picture. 

Relation of Imagination to Thought and Emotion. — 
Imagination has been neglected in teaching because it was 
regarded as a mental activity opposed in spirit and nature 
to reason. Fact and fancy have been confused ; in our mental 
haste fancy was made the culprit and hence was not dignified 
in education. Although we must admit the error of such a 
judgment we need not necessarily champion the other extreme 
and maintain, as others do when they tell us, "Because fact 
comes from clear perception, and perception is the basis of 
reason and imagination, these two forms of mental activity — 
imagination and reason — are only two degrees of the one 
activity, for, when I combine percepts into a new whole, I 
have imagination; if, however, I organize them on a cause- 
and-effect basis, I have reason." 

But one must ever be mindful of the fact that if our per- 
cepts are inaccurate the results achieved by creative imagina- 
tion need not necessarily be less efficient, but, under the same 
conditions, the results of reason are rendered invalid. Imag- 



312 Education as Mental Adjustment 

tnation, so often fanciful, is nol subject to proof and need out 
measure up to anything in the objeetive world. But the 
very opposite prevails in reason. 

The intimate relation between reason and imagination can- 
not be denied, for we cannot reason very deeply or to any 
great extent without imagination. Correct answers to ques- 
tions of the type, "How will this appear if seen apart from 
present conditions and in different relations?" are respon- 
sible for unlimited progress in every field of human en- 
deavor. Guessing involves making certain temporary com- 
binations of data and is at the basis of a scientific imagina- 
tion. Invention and discovery, the leaders of progress, are 
the direct result of imagination coupled with reason. Every 
attempt to harness nature, to reduce disease, to promote hu- 
man safety and efficiency, would have been frustrated with- 
out imagination, for, in the final analysis, it has made pos- 
sible Copernicus, Galileo, Columbus, Davy and Newton, Dar- 
win, Morse and Marconi, Pasteur and Flexner, the vanguard 
of civilization. Nevertheless, our conclusion must be tem- 
pered; although imagination makes possible the highest lev- 
els and most productive results of reason, it must not be given 
free rein. Without due guarding, imagination may turn fact 
into fancy. 

Imagination is more closely associated with the emotional 
than the intellectual activity of the mind. Both the loftiest 
and the most vulgar forms of the emotions bring highly imagi- 
native states. The best aesthetic and artistic imaginative 
creations have much of the inspirational elements in them. 
The poet and the artist are imaginative and emotional, rather 
than imaginative and intellectual. But just as the noblest 
forms of emotions are imaginative, so, too. its undesirable 
forms make heavy drafts on the imagination. Fear, dread, 
hate, superstition, are emotional states that likewise show 
that imagination rather than reason plays the all-important 
role. 

We must not, however, fail to give imagination its just 
due. It is that expression of our self-activity which lifts 



Imagination 313 

us above the commonplace and the sordid into a world purer 
and finer. Not only is it the "inspirer of poetry and the 
handmaid-of-art, " but, without it, literature would be but 
a "cold, insipid photograph of reality"; moral and religious 
consciousness would be dead indeed. It determines not only 
appreciation of the gems of literature and art, and compre- 
hension of the message of music and of the drama, but also 
expression of the finer sensibilities and the ethical impulses. 
Who can feel pity and give sympathy unless he can picture 
himself in his brother's condition? The more faithfully we 
reproduce his lot the more keenly we feel his sorrow. Im- 
agination helps each individual to divert his thoughts from 
himself, it transports him into realms whose paths have not 
been trodden, whose roads lead to others, not himself. It is 
another of the mind 's activities whose expression tends toward 
greater socialization. 

How Can Education Aid the Imagination? — Before con- 
sidering the methods of developing the child's imagination, 
the teacher must realize that imagination of a higher order is 
a natural gift. The individual who has been denied this men- 
tal asset finds that the school can do little to make up for 
nature's excessive economy. All that education can do in 
the training of the imagination is to so exercise it that the 
individual will achieve the highest development of the gift 
bestowed upon him. In the course of experience the teacher 
finds that imagination is the mind's activity that is least 
capable of direct training. The peculiar characteristics of 
imagination are the justifications for such a conclusion. 
Imagination is free and unbridled; it transcends reality, it 
functions regardless of possibilities to such a degree that 
psychologists cannot formulate a definite set of regulations 
for its education. It is a law unto itself, whose behavior 
and results can never be foretold. Since it is so intense and 
individual in its activity, so intimately associated with every 
phase of intellectual and emotional life, it defies logical an- 
alysis and manifests no apparent systematic development. 
"Its birthplace is in what is most intimate to the soul itself; 
21 



314 Education as Mental Adjustment 

it is the reflex of hope, love, reverence, and admiration. Thus 
it cannot be pried into from without, nor can it be greatly 
stimulated from without excepting by awakening the feel- 
ings. A child's imagination is often so deeply personal that 
it cannot be treated with too great reserve; too close scrutiny 
or guidance is violation of the child's personality." 

From the very nature of imagination one concludes, 
a priori, that only general principles can be suggested for 
its proper guidance. From a mere outline of its character- 
istics it becomes apparent also that the problem which the 
teacher must solve in educating the imagination is not to 
devise means for its stimulation but rather to give proper 
direction to a process already ultra-active, so that it may 
become most fruitful in its imagery, a most efficient agent in 
life. 

Principles Governing Imagination 

I. Supply the Proper Material for Imagination. — The 
study of the psychological basis of imagination emphasized 
the fact that all imagination must have a perceptual basis. 
So true is this principle that the neural processes function- 
ing in perception and in image-making are almost identical. 
Hence only as a proper perceptual foundation is laid, as sense 
training is given, as the world of reality is made the subject- 
matter of the class room, are we laying the basis for active, 
reliable, productive imagination. Every building process 
must have material with which to build; the structure it 
creates cannot be a bit better than the material used in the 
construction. The inference for education is obvious; the 
curriculum must provide the proper "building material" for 
imagination. A cursory review of the possibilities and the 
limitations of the average elementary school course may prove 
helpful. 

Picture Side of History Xcglected. — History transports 
the child into the past and allows him to relive the dramatic 
life of the race. In the kaleidoscope of time the child sees 



Imagination 315 

past ages, mankind's life in all stages in its metamorphosis 
from savagery to civilization. He is gripped by the trage- 
dies of the race, racked by its woes, jubilant at its success, 
inspired by its courage and patriotic devotion. History, with 
its varied panorama and gamut of human emotions, becomes 
a means par excellence of giving effective training in cre- 
ative imagination. 

But history taught as a mere record of events in racial 
development, as a fabric of dates, names, places, persons. 
as a transcript of the chronological details in the social bible 
is little more than a means of stultifying imagination and 
stupefying mind. The child studying colonial history must 
"see" the colony, the people, the dress, the houses, the oc- 
cupations and handcrafts, the highways, the archaic means 
of transportation and communication, the entire lack of 
modern conveniences and scientific applications — in a word, 
every phase of social life must pass in review before the 
mind's eye. The child learning the "Stamp Act" must know 
more than the kind of tax it levied, when it was passed, by 
whom and when it was repealed. He must "see" the ship 
bringing the stamps, trying to land it at the Battery of New 
York Harbor, the resentment of the mob of outraged Ameri- 
cans, the march to the Governor's house to demand the 
stamps, the effigies that were burned, the monster protest 
parade and meeting. These human sidelights of the "Stamp 
Act" make it a live issue. They give the measure, puerile 
and insignificant in itself, a dynamic force which made it 
an important contributing factor in the strained relations 
between the colonies and the mother country. There is 
hardly a topic in a well-organized course in history which 
does not give untold opportunities for image-making. In 
the pressure of class-room routine and crowded curricula 
these are neglected and progress is measured by the glib 
recital of cold, isolated facts, by the study of the social 
corpse rather than the social spirit. 

Picture Side of Geography Too Often Subordinated. — 
Geography also offers picturing material for the imagination, 



316 Education as Mental Adjustment 

but too often it is regarded only in the light of a memory- 
subject. Four or five cities of a country are taught, but 
what do they symbolize as the child recalls them in the reci- 
tation and locates them on the map? Nothing more than so 
many dots. '"Pekin is a black, starry dot in the western part 
of China; Hankau is a dot on the Yangste-kiang River." 
These names are not cues which bring before the mind the 
panorama of narrow streets, quaint shops, queer and varie- 
gated colors, odd-appearing inhabitants, real life and living 
conditions. Give these human details, make Canton a symbol 
of life rather than a dot on a map, and the imagination is 
stirred to create a picture. In teaching the cities of a new 
country the teacher should select a typical one and give as 
complete a description of it as she can, either pictorially or 
verbally. Since most cities in a country bear a striking re- 
semblance to one another in their essentials, the child who 
recites the cities of Holland will, if he has been properly 
taught, see behind each name the people, the dress, the streets, 
the houses; the recital of the cities of Italy brings with each 
the sunny sky, the many-colored dresses of the inhabitants, 
their life, their cathedrals, their art. 

The child learns that the United States is 3,000 miles 
from east to west, and 1,500 miles from north to south. These 
figures are mere words, and are repeated as empty sounds. 
Make them stand for something. Let the child compute how 
long it would take him to walk the distance at twenty miles 
per day, how long a train, running a mile a minute, would 
take to traverse it. This kind of interpretation makes these 
numbers living knowledge and sets the mind at work "pic- 
turing." 

Imaginary trips are ever popular forms of drill and re- 
view in geography. The child loads a ship at Liverpool 
and takes it to Hongkong, via the Mediterranean Sea, Suez 
Canal, Red Sea, and [ndian Ocean, slopping at various ports 
to exchange cargoes. The teacher requires the child to tell 
what, countries, cities, islands are seen to starboard and port, 
at what cities the ho.it will stop, what changes in cargo will 



Imagination 317 

be made. The child is never asked to tell "what do you see 
if you leave the ship while it is loading? what changes in 
clothing must you make? what new language do you hear? 
how do the people differ? what mannerisms and customs at- 
tract your attention ? how does the city differ in appearance ? 
how well are the longshoremen paid who work on the dock? 
what kind of homes do they live in? what kind of schools 
do their children attend?" All these vitally human condi- 
tions are sacrificed in the worship of facts, and geography 
is accorded its traditional place in the school curriculum, 
"the memory subject." 

Literature and Imagination. — Literature, as a means of 
supplying the imagination with material for creative work, 
is without equal chiefly because it is itself the product of the 
imagination of the race. In the discussion of the culture- 
epoch theory it was shown that there is an imaginary and 
fanciful period in the race which corresponds to a similar 
one in the child. The age of mythology, of fable, of bard 
and minstrels, marks an epoch in the social development akin 
to the early years of dreams and far-off fancies of the child. 
Since the two epochs correspond, we can readily understand 
the child's love for the fairy tales in which it finds a repro- 
duction of its own mind. It is obvious, therefore, that liter- 
ature offers the teacher the means of most potent appeal to 
the child's imagination. 

Added Opportunities for Rich Imagery. — Drawing, with 
its exercises in design, constructions, memory sketches, and 
the like, stands high among the means provided by the cur- 
riculum for guiding imagination. A part of the drawing 
course which is too often neglected but which can contribute 
materially to this end is a study of a graded series of the 
simpler masterpieces of the foremost artists. The need of 
incorporating "Picture Study" into the work in drawing 
and making it as essential a part of the week's lessons as the 
principles of perspective, radiation, rhythm, or convention- 
alization we noted in a previous connection. Nature study 
which pictures the life of the common plant and animal 



318 Education as Mental Adjustment 

forms is equally important for supplying material for im- 
agery. Music which requires the reproduction of tunes and 
the auditory re-imaging of melodies heard or sung in the 
past has a similar value. The average course of study pur- 
sued by a progressive community abounds with opportunity 
and material for the education of imagination. Where the 
results are far out of proportion to the possibilities, the fault 
can usually be traced to errors in the technique of teaching. 

II. Do Not Give the Imagination Undue Aid. — Unneces- 
sary stimulation and aid proffered to imagination is the cause 
of more detrimental and perverted results, and is responsible 
for more arrested development by far than can be traced to 
an entire lack of conscious endeavor on the part of education 
to raise imagination to higher levels of efficiency. The best 
illustrations of violations of this cardinal principle may be 
found in many of the class-room dramatizations of history 
and literature. Without stopping to inquire. "Why drama- 
tize?" "What is the object of dramatization?" "What topics 
and incidents need dramatization?" teachers often obey the 
mandate of their superiors, "Dramatize." Some of the re- 
sults may be cited as cautions. 

Wrong Forms of Dramatization. — In teaching the "Bat- 
tle of Bunker Hill" a teacher divided her class into two 
armies and appointed the generals; after hints and consulta- 
tion the battle began. The two armies approached and 
touched hands, then the British army stepped back. After 
a moment or two the enemy approached once more, hands 
were again touched and the army was again repulsed. A 
third onslaught was made in the same gentle fashion, bu1 
now the American army retreated to their seats and the 
Battle of Bunker 11 ill was lost. Such was the lesson, drama- 
tized as well as it can be. What more can we expect? Surely 
no real force, no semblance of violence! What does a battle 
mean to a child? Does it simply call up the tame picture of 
hand-touching? In the mind's eye the child sees the can- 
nons vomiting forth their fiery missiles, explosions, deaths, 
indescribable horror, the British retreating only after the 



Imagination 319 

hill runs rivers of blood. Again the onslaught, again the 
same retreat ; and finally the fruitless stand against the Red 
Coats and Warren falls. This is the Battle of Bunker Hill 
as tlte imagination paints it. To show two groups meekly 
touching hands in friendly combat stultifies the imagination 
by restraining it in a circumstance that affords the best op- 
portunity for its expression. Such a stupendous discrepancy 
between the mind's capabilities and the class-room demon- 
stration takes the child from the sublime to the pedagogically 
ridiculous. "How can we dramatize the battle?" the teacher 
asks in despair. Since no method that we may suggest can 
approach the result that the imagination can achieve, the 
topic should not be dramatized. 

Another favorite historical dramatization is the story of 
"Columbus before the Court of Spain." Two pupils take 
the part of the sovereigns, one of Columbus, another of the 
chief minister; a group of children stand about impersonat- 
ing the courtiers. Columbus then asks for aid, gives his rea- 
sons, and then Isabella tells him that her jewels are at his dis- 
posal. Here, too, we have a presentation which offends the 
imagination. Let the teacher merely show the child a repro- 
duction of the well-known painting of the scene, or only 
vividly describe it, and the artist within the mind of each 
child at once finds inspiration for a most elaborate composi- 
tion. The mental painter creates a magnificent court, spa- 
cious and extravagant in detail, with decorations befitting 
royalty. He sees the two monarchs, real monarchs, on their 
throne of gold, the auditors overawed in their presence, 
Columbus humbly yet convincingly pleading his cause, the 
sneering minister vainly trying to discredit the Italian 
mariner, and Queen Isabella offering to pawn her jewelry. 
The imagination, if not fettered by this sham of reality, pic- 
tures the scene in all its vividness, rich in color, impressive 
in its realism. Only as we offer a dramatization which pro- 
duces a situation superior to the mind's product do we lift 
imagination to higher levels of creative possibilities. The 
cheap imitations which am typical of dramatizations too fre- 



320 Education as Mental Adjustment 

quently perpetrated upon school children work irreparable 
harm upon the imaginative development of our pupils. 

Function of Dramatization. — It must be remembered that 
dramatization is only an elaboration of the principle of mo- 
torization. The reader may recall that the law of motoriza- 
tion was suggested as an answer to the question, "How Give 
the Mind Better Percepts." Here one finds one of the most 
important justifications of all classroom dramatization. 
When a clearer, more accurate, and lasting perception is the 
desired end, then we let the child learn through creation; to 
act the process that is being explained guarantees comprehen- 
sion that is better, richer, and truer. But was there any need 
of giving a better understanding of the events in history to 
which we have referred? The child grasped very easily all 
the facts of the lessons: his imagination pictured all that 
could be read out of the scene. Motorization was therefore 
unnecessary. In teaching many topics in civics, on the con- 
trary, motorization was suggested as the most effective ap- 
peal. In trying to give a clear outline of the government 
of the local community a teacher will soon find that clear 
and vivid perception of the organization of the government 
and the function of the important officials is best attained 
by having the children elect their Mayor and Board of Alder- 
men. In succeeding lessons the former meets with his cabi- 
net of commissioners, the latter discussing in parliamentary 
form problems of Local interest. Motorization is the justi- 
fiable mode of procedure in this case because clearness of 
comprehension is in danger, for even an adult is sometimes 
lost in the complexity of the ramifications of city government. 
"Will dramatization give a clearer perception of the topic?" 
is therefore the question which determines the appropriate- 
ness of the application of the principle of motorization. 

Dramatization for Emotional Appreciation. — There is an 
important exception to this law of motorization which is 
found in literature and kindred emotional appeals. It is our 
common experience that we cannot fully appreciate the char- 
acters we meet in history and fiction, nor can we feel their 



Imagination 321 

longings, their hates and loves, their hopes and ambitions, 
unless we take the subjective rather than the objective at- 
titude toward them. To relive their lives we must not only 
assume their mental attitude but also their very physical 
posture. To catch the spirit of an action we perform the 
act. Meanness unperformed does not debase, kindness un- 
expressed does not ennoble. This simple truism has its class- 
room application. 

If the teacher is anxious to have the child feel the indo- 
lence of Rip and his "aversion for all forms of profitable 
labor" the child must be made to dramatize as he reads. 
"Rip would trudge along wearily, with his heavy flintlock 
on his shoulder." Children reading Evangeline cannot ap- 
preciate the dramatic force of the church scene unless they 
actually live through it by some form of dramatization. The 
children must all come into the class room as if assembling 
in the church in response to the orders of the commander 
of the warship in the harbor. The door must be shut in 
imitation of the clanging gate. The child who is the cap- 
tain arises to read the order of banishment. Deathlike si- 
lence pervades as the cold, gruff voice announces the doom 
of the simple Acadian folk. Gradually "the tumult of 
angry contention" breaks out, Basil shouts his defiance as 
the "hand of the soldier smote him." In the midst of this 
tumult the door opens again and the child impersonating 
Father Felician enters and dramatizes, 

"Baising his reverend hand, with a gesture awed into silence 
All that clamorous throng. And thus he spake to his people; 
Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful 
Spake he," 

Assuming the "tones" of Father Felician the child recites: 

" 'What is this that ye do, my children? What madness has seized you? 
Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you, 
Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another! 
Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? 
Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? 



322 Education as Mental Adjustment 

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it 
Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? 
Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! 
See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness, and holy compassion! 
Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them! ' 
Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, 
Let us repeat it now, and say, ' O Father, forgive them ! ' " 

As the child finishes his plea all the children carry out the 
action suggested in the lines: 

"Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people 
Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate outbreak, 
While they repeated his prayer, and said, 'O Father, forgive them! ' " 

Children of school age cannot "see" the contrast, the change 
from the frantic panic-stricken mob to the Christian congre- 
gation submitting in the spirit of meekness and compassion 
to what to them was divine will ; from open defiance in the 
face of military force to "sobs of contrition" at religious 
appeal. Only as this scene is dramatized are the children 
gripped emotionally in the sway from tumultuous outbreak 
to compassionate prayer. 

Psychology to-day teaches that an emotion without its 
physical accompaniments is impossible. "A disembodied 
human emotion is a sheer nonentity," James tells us. The 
teacher seeking class-room application of this principle real- 
izes that all emotional situations must be dramatized even 
if the situation is comprehended. If literary inspiration 
is to be caught rather than taught, then dramatization is 
the only mode of approach. 

But see how the same exaggerations that were noted in 
history are often reproduced in literature. A teacher of a 
first-year class taught the story of the cat that stole the rat *^ 
tail. The rat.pleads for its tail, and is told that it will be 
returned provided the rat gets the eat a glass of milk. The 
rat goes to the farmer with the request, only to receive an 
answer that if it can get him something from the maid he 
will oblige the rat. A series is started which forms a pleas- 
ant cumulative tale. The teacher had one child act as the 



Imagination 323 

rat, another the cat, both were on the floor on all fours. 
Then a third child stood in the corner, window pole in hand, 
scratching the floor in imitation of raking the hay. What 
value has such dramatization? There is no emotional appeal 
for which the children must be prepared. The child has 
seen too many cats and rats to need the crudity of the chil- 
dren on the floor. A eity urchin who has never seen a 
hay field and a farmer raking hay forms no intelligent image 
of the situation despite the boy with the window pole. The 
child whose pale of experience includes such a situation 
finds that his imagination is offended by this dramatiza- 
tion. What, then, is gained? Not only are there no benefi- 
cial results in the wake of such teaching, but a decidedly 
weakening effect is produced on the imagination. 

A popular argument insists that a child's mind must 
have some crude concrete object to start the chain of images 
flowing. The child at play reflects this need. The chiffonier 
becomes his castle, for he is an ancient knight ; the chairs 
are the impregnable hills; the rocking horse or even the 
mere broom handle is the fiery steed that outstrips Pegasus. 
The little girl playing "house" bestows on her rag doll the 
tender care which elemental maternal instinct prompts. 
But we must distinguish between the imagination in play 
and the imagination in serious intellectual appeals. In the 
latter circumstance the impulse for imagination comes from 
without and is often imposed upon the child. The pictures 
and the conditions that the mind paints in these serious les- 
sons must be real. The disparity between the situation in 
the dramatization and the circumstances that the mind can 
conjure up must be in favor of the dramatization, otherwise 
imagination finds itself unduly checked in its flight. The 
staged drama does not deliver the author's message if the 
actors are not, for the time being, the very characters they 
impersonate. Unless each situation is real to the actor the 
play does not come across the footlights. 

But in play the impulse to set the chain of imagery in 
motion comes from within. It is instinctive and craves ex- 



324 Education as Mental Adjustment 

pression. It needs only a rag doll to arouse all the latent 
maternal impulses dormant in the little girl, only the rocking 
horse and the chairs to call up all the physical heroism of 
the race concentrated in the lad. The play instinct coupled 
with the free and fantastic imagination which characterizes 
this period of youth is known as the mythological tendency 
of childhood. In the light of this explanation of imagina- 
tion in play it is readily seen why the child finds less in- 
tense joy in an elaborate toy than in a crude one. The little 
girl cannot really play with the doll of infant's size, dressed 
in the height of fashion, and reclining in a real "go-cart." 
Too much is done for the mind. The conditions, though not 
real, nevertheless approach the real too closely. The imagi- 
nation, instead of transporting the child into the realm of the 
child world, where possibility and probability are negligible 
factors, is tied down by this sham reality. The same sad 
result is repeated with the boy who is given toy wagons, 
horses, engines, and self-propelling automobiles ; they are 
too large and lifelike and paralyze the wings of fancy. 

III. Encourage the Imagery of the Real and the Possible. 
— How can the teacher tell whether imagination is develop- 
ing and responding to the cultural influences of education ? 
Imagination of a higher order is characterized by increased 
ability and added facility in so arranging and ordering ele- 
ments of old experience that the final results arc within the 
pale of possibility. The psychologist, though not underesti- 
mating the imagination of a Munchausen, places that of the 
inventor and constructive social reformer upon a higher level 
of development. This standard is natural from a genetic 
point of view. It is our common experience that the child's 
imagination knows no limit of possibility; it runs riot and 
often defies logical organization of facts. The beanstalk must 
grow up overnight, the rubbing of the lamp brings the genie, 
the wave of the wand can transform the fisherman's hovel 
into a royal palace. As the child grows older and passes out 
of the representative stage of psychic life, we find that the 
old stories lose their fascination, and fairy tales cease to 



Imagination 325 

please; the child yearns for stories of real adventure, of 
biography, and history. "Is it a true story?" they con- 
stantly ask. The imagination is no longer lawless, it becomes 
bridled and disciplined. It seems as if "the daylight of rea- 
son soon dissipates the shadows and phantoms of the imag- 
ination." 

The practical teacher finds in this development the clue 
to the method of educating the imagination ; for to exercise 
the imagination educationally means to direct it, to force it 
into the realm of possibility. Hence, the suggestion to teach 
cities and foreign countries in a manner designed to create 
a picture reproducing actual conditions, seeks to educate the 
imagination. So, too, in teaching history, a battle is pre- 
sented in all its details; by the aid of a diagram of blue and 
gray colors the exact position, the manoeuvres, the line of 
march of the armies at Vicksburg are made clear. While 
the child's imagination supplies the roar of the cannon and 
the human havoc, the teacher forces the child to systematize 
and organize his images until there results a mental picture 
of the battle as nearly like the real one as possible. In liter- 
ature, too, we must stop at the description of Acadia and 
lead the child to posit the village in the valley of Grand Pre, 
the forest to the west, and the great ocean kept out by dikes 
on the east. If necessary the relative position of these three 
places must be indicated by diagram on the blackboard, not 
because the information is absolutely essential for the com- 
prehension and the appreciation of "Evangeline," but be- 
cause this practice forces the imagination to create a sem- 
blance of what is real, and in that measure strengthens it. 
The first principle, "Supply proper material for the imag- 
ination to work upon," is reenforced by this final suggestion. 

Undesirable Forms of Imagination 

1. Confusion of Fact and Fancy. — No study of imagina- 
tion is complete without a word of caution concerning the un- 
desirable forms that it may take. These, in the main, are 



326 Education as Mental Adjustment 

three: First, is the tendency to confuse fact and fiction, 
especially if the fiction is vivid and capable of appealing to 
the mind's constructive powers. Stories of bogy men, mon- 
sters, and the like, poison the imagination by feeding it with 
material which makes it a curse rather than a blessing, for 
it racks the child emotionally with the dread of what it can 
conjure up. 

2. The Reverie. — The second of these perverted forms 
is the reverie. Constructive imagination, when it makes 
itself manifest, is exceedingly active and insistent. In a pre- 
vious connection it was observed that the expression of any 
power that is growing gives a feeling of pleasure which is 
known as interest. This satisfaction is due to the relief which 
is experienced in giving vent to an active, urgent craving. 
Hence the child in this imaginative age delights in day 
dreams and reveries. An over-indulgence in these is danger- 
ous, for they tend to make the child a passive victim of his 
stream of consciousness; they lead too frequently to habits 
of indolence. Should they be discouraged? The execution 
of this task is wellnigh impossible. These idle fancies can 
be utilized very readily. Constructive imagination either 
produces a desired result or ends in "airy nothings," the 
reveries. Parents should encourage children who are given 
to day dreams to write out the ideas that come to them, to 
draw what their idle conceits suggest, or, in one way or an- 
other, to seek to utilize these fancies and direct them to 
useful ends. 

Imagination that leads to action is a blessing, it makes 
for a productive life. Imagination that ends in itself is often 
a hindrance in life, it makes for the reverie, the static, indo- 
lent, useless mind of the idle dreamer, "the idle singer of 
an empty day." 

3. Indecent Imagery. — Another undesirable form of im- 
agination is found in the expression of indecent imagery that 
fills the mind during early adolescence. Tt has been part of 
the disagreeable, yet instructive, experience of many teachers 
to read notes that children write to one another, and the sen- 



Imagination 327 

timents they express on the fly leaves of the textbooks and 
even on the walls of buildings. The shocking indecencies ex- 
pressed in them are manifestations of a growing imagination 
feeding on raw material. "What shall we do with such a 
child?" the distracted parent asks. The remedies and aids 
are simple, and they are numerous. There is no reason for 
hysterical alarm and ultra-pessimism, nor are such manifesta- 
tions indicative of a depraved nature. Biography is replete 
with illustrations which show that many of the inspirational 
figures in human progress and civilization were given to 
such weaknesses in youth. They outgrew the stage of men- 
tal perversion as they did their measles, for the mind, like 
the flesh, is heir to many ills. The teacher must realize that 
whatever may be the effectiveness of corporal punishment this 
surely is no occasion for its use. A change for the better 
can come about only as we secure the child's cooperation, for 
the transformation must be prompted from within, not forced 
from without. Moral suasion will be just as futile, for the 
imagination in such a child is abnormally developed and has 
an avaricious appetite ; material for proper imagery must be 
supplied. 

Suggested Treatment for Indecent Imagery. — Teachers 
confronted with this problem must make every effort to de- 
velop in the child an interest in reading many kinds of 
stories : biography, war stories, naval fights, myths, historical 
tales — the whole array of literary form. Cooperation with 
the librarian of the nearest public library will be helpful, 
for the teacher can obtain innumerable suggestions and val- 
uable lists of reading designed to meet special needs, to cater 
to particular interests, to correlate with the specific grades. 
The child should be urged to join the library and read what 
the teacher suggests. During special appointments outside 
of school hours the teacher should talk to the child, learn 
what he thought of the book, the reason for the favor or the 
disfavor that the volume may have found. The conference 
should end with another specific recommendation for the 
next book, the teacher basing her suggestion on the interests 



328 Education as Mental Adjustment 

disclosed in the talk with the pupil. This is the first at- 
tempt that can be made to supply proper mental food to the 
ravenous imagination of the child. 

A second saving procedure in this precarious stage of 
development of imagination is to inculcate and foster an 
athletic interest in the child. The physical fatigue, the men- 
tal exhilaration, the nervous strain of the competition, the 
persistency of interest and endeavor which athletic sports 
invariably bring are all efficient counteracting agents, for 
they seek not the repression of mental energy but its proper 
utilization and guidance. Another means of getting the child 
away from himself in this critical transitional period is to 
insure proper companions who are organized socially for some 
social purpose. Membership in a club and participation in 
the varied affairs and interests of the club are means of 
bringing about this desired end. A properly organized and 
supervised club is a direct agent for untold intellectual stim- 
ulation, emotional refinement, and social development. 

Anxious parents and teachers will find that still another 
means of keeping imagination active along proper channels 
is to encourage the dramatic instinct of the child through 
participation in dramatics. This is especially suitable for 
the upper classes of the elementary school and for the entire 
high school course. The teacher of English who is capable 
and seriously interested in her work can suggest the skele- 
ton of a story for a play or the dramatization of a literary 
masterpiece studied during the current term. Children and 
teacher plan the story, the acts, and the scenes. Each dra- 
matic unit is then made the topic for the composition pe- 
riods and the play is written by the children. The best 
dramatization is selected and plans are begun for its pro- 
duction. The children are then concerned with the work of 
staging, costuming, building of scenery, rehearsals, invita- 
tions, and the host of accompanying problems. A careful 
division of labor keeps everybody busy contributing toward 
the final success. The teachers of manual training, wood- 
work, and sewing, of drawing, and of music are now called 



Imagination 329 

upon to collaborate by correlating their work with this dram- 
atization. Throughout this work the whole class should be 
included and the burden must be thrown upon the children; 
they must build the scenes, plan the tableaus, care for prop- 
erty, and collect necessary materials ; the teacher, through 
judicious suggestion and planning, fans every spark of en- 
thusiasm into a consuming flame and guides the whole en- 
deavor along proper lines. 

Dramatizations of this type have a dignity all their own 
that merits a position in the course of study coordinate with 
any other literary or cultural subject. This estimate of their 
importance is based on a twofold reason. The first consid- 
eration is the fact that the child of thirteen or fourteen, es- 
pecially the girl, is passing very rapidly out of the period 
of childhood into adolescence; feeling and consciousness are 
maturing, but they are far from mature ; they are exceed- 
ingly sensitive and ultra-active; the mind is literally intoxi- 
cated with imagination. This power must be utilized. The 
children's theater is a means of draining this activity and 
turning it into productive channels. The second reason for 
suggesting the drama in this period of development is the 
fact that we take on the character of the actions which we 
perform. A person who is consciously and deliberately hypo- 
critical soon becomes so unconsciously. Hypocrisy becomes 
second nature. He who deliberately assumes affectations 
and mannerisms soon becomes — paradoxical as it may seem — 
naturally affected. So, too, those who force themselves to 
be polite and considerate find that the spirit of the activity 
sinks deep ; it soon becomes natural for them to be polite and 
considerate. The child who learns the part of a certain 
character in a play, who acts as the character acts, does what 
the character does, and feels as the character feels, will be 
influenced accordingly. The child who acts the part of an 
unselfish, disinterested Brutus becomes, in a way, a sort of 
Brutus himself. Mr. Chubb, in his delightful way, tells us: 
"The prehensile power of the child is not so much rational 
and analytic as imaginative and imitative . . . the way 



330 Education as Menial Adjustment 

to get him to appreciate a fad or an idea is not to labor with 
him until he knows that he knows, but. to insure some sort of 
unconscious imitative reaction. He must unconsciously do 
something about it. . . . He learns to know this per- 
sonage, story hero, fairy, animal, flower, tree, by being it, 
living with its life, imitating it . . . 

'This price the Gods exact for song, — 
That we become what we sing. 

Children are poets in this sense : they, too, become what they 
hear and see, and with a still greater intensity what they ad- 
mire and love." 

But, it may be argued, if acting the hero makes a hero, 
will not acting the rogue make the rogue? This objection 
raises a serious issue. It is undoubtedly true that the child 
who plays the part of an undesirable character, who analyzes 
the motives behind each act, and tries to understand and feel 
the selfishness and the hypocrisy of the personage he is imi- 
tating may get an insight into rascality that will be inju- 
rious, for too often children confuse roguishness with shrewd- 
ness. But, with proper care and a little explanation, the 
teacher can forestall such a perversion of moral estimate. 
We can arouse the better nature of a person directly and 
indirectly. The direct means consists of appealing to the 
bet In- self by presenting what is worthy and lovable and de- 
signed to call forth immediate admiration. The method of 
indirection so presents the bad that it cannot fail to dis- 
gust. The child who is to act the role of rogue can be made 
to see the knavery in a light which cannot fail to disgust 
him. This disgust has its origin in the simple manhood 
which asserts itself even in the child. To disgust, therefore, 
is not to degrade, but to appeal indirectly to the better 
nature. 

The children's theater is an agent for untold good, for it 
is an educational institution which can be made a mosl effi- 
cacious medium for character and ethical influence. When 



Imagination 331 

its possibilities are fully appreciated, education will make 
ample provision for it in the curriculum, and stages will be 
built in the schools, thus augmenting the usefulness of the 
school structures themselves, as is being done to-day for 
social work, athletics, and manual training. 



SUGGESTED BEADING 

Angell. Psychology, Chap. 8. 

Bolton. Principles of Education. Chap. 19. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 19. 

Oppenheim. Mental Growth and Control, Chap. 9. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chap. 11. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THE THOUGHT PROCESSES OF CONCEPTION, JUDGMENT 

AND REASON: HOW DOES THE MIND USE THE 

KNOWLEDGE IT POSSESSES? 

The study of the intellect has been centered thus far 
around the questions, "How do we know the environment?" 
"How do we interpret what the senses bring?" "How do we 
retain what is assimilated?" and "How do we picture life's 
varied experience?" The four intellectual gilts of percep- 
tion, apperception, memory, and imagination make us mas- 
ters of a rich storehouse of facts, somewhat related, in a 
vague organization, but with a great many possibilities as 
yet unrealized. The next question is, therefore, "How does 
the mind use this mental acquisition ; how will it begin to 
actualize the possibilities wrapped up in this vast stock of 
facts perceived, apperceived, remembered, and imaged?" 
Psychology answers, "In three ways: through conception, 
judgment, and reason." These are the three forms of think- 
ing. The first of this trinity, conception, will receive almost 
exclusive attention in this chapter. 

I. Conception 

Nature of Conception. — The student can derive a crude 
notion of conception from the almost classic illustrations 
offered in elementary- psychologies. The development of a 
concept is outlined in some form like the following: A child 
sees the picture of an American soldier for the first time and 
calls him "man." He is told that a man dressed in a uni- 
form, with a gun, sword, military hat, and belt is called 
a soldier. At a later time he sees a second picture, but of 
an English soldier. Again he calls this "man," for the uni- 
form is of different color, the hat of a new form, while the 
gun and sword are absent. The child is told that this, too, 

332 



Conception 333 

is a soldier, and the reason is pointed out. A third picture 
of a cavalryman is shown, and the child is told that, despite 
the differences, he, too, is a soldier, for he wears the uniform 
and has the appurtenances of the fighter. If a new picture 
is now shown, that of a French artilleryman, the child says, 
without any difficulty, "this is a soldier," for he recognizes 
the essentials that we pointed out as common to the group, 
"soldier." To the child the word soldier now means, not 
cadet, nor cavalryman, nor infantryman, but a general class 
of fighting men, all showing the same essential resemblances, 
despite their superficial differences. This general notion 
corresponding to no one particular individual is a concept; 
that mental activity which evolves such a general idea is 
known as "conception." 

While the illustration is accurate in itself it needs cau- 
tious interpretation, for concepts are usually not constructed 
in this convenient, systematic, inductive mode. Very often 
a concept is a deductive growth resulting from an active at- 
titude of mind displayed in the acquisition of new facts in 
the environment. The child forms his idea of "dog" from 
one dog. Sheep, goats, and even horses are readily included 
in the same category. But a little scrutiny on the part of the 
child or a hint from his parents soon discloses differences 
which prompt differentiating adjectives like "big," "strong," 
for the noun "dogs." As the child sees other dogs, other 
sheep, and other horses the crude, indefinite concepts are en- 
riched and acquire definiteness which gives each of them its 
individuality. It is also essential that the student realize 
that concepts need not necessarily refer to a class of con- 
crete objects. "To communicate," "To transport," refer 
to a class of activities and are therefore as rich and compre- 
hensive as the concept "soldier" or "dog." It is obvious, 
therefore, that adjectives and adverbs are also conceptualized 
by the developing mind. 

Psychological Processes in Conception, — Whether the child 
evolves its concepts inductively or deductively in early 
life, it usually goes through four steps in organizing its 



334 Education as Mental Adjustment 

knowledge into classes. The firsl is perception, the accurate 
noting of the individual presentations as they come within 
tli" range of the senses. The noting of each individual sol- 
dier or dog in the instances cited is an illustration of what 
occurs. Comparison is the second step, for now the mind 
takes note of obvious resemblances and differences among 
the kindred experiences, yet each presentation retains its 
own entity. The similarity among the various soldiers, the 
differences among dog, sheep, goat, horse, reflect this step in 
the elaboration of the concept. The third activity is a proc- 
ess of abstraction in which the essential likenesses, the in- 
herent similarities are emphasized. Despite apparent 
differences the mind recognizes the uniform, the military ap- 
pearance of each class of soldier. At the end of these ana- 
lytical steps we find a fourth stage in conceptualization, 
the generalization which enriches and elaborates the original 
notion. But it must be noted that the concept lacks perma- 
nence and deflniteness of form until some word is selected 
as a symbol which seems almost to gather the abstract quali- 
ties into one and to give the general notion solidity and struc- 
ture. This final step is hence constructive and synthetic. 
The earlier stages in the acquisition of general notions are 
analytic, leading up to a final synthesis. This accounts for 
the oft-quoted pedagogical maxim. "In teaching, analysis 
precedes synthesis." Conception can therefore be defined 
as the mental process which gives rise to general notions 
and ideas. 

Percept and Concept Differentiated. — There are important 
differences between percepl and concept that must now be 
considered for a better comprehension of each. A compari- 
son of these important terms gives the following contrast: 

Percept Concept 

1. It refers to an indi- 1. It sums up a class or 

vidual thing or action. In a general notion. Concepts 

grammar the proper noun correspond, in a general way, 

corresponds to a percept, to common nouns in gram- 



Conception 



335 



Hence a percept cannot be 
further subdivided without 
losing its identity. 



2. A percept has prac- 
tically no extension, but 
great intension ; no denota- 
tion, but vast connotation. A 
proper noun has an extension 
equal to one, an intension 
which includes all the quali- 
ties of the object or action. 

3. The mind can form 
an image of a past percept 
if it is within the power of 
recollection. One can image 
very vividly all that was per- 
ceived during an interesting 
experience. 



mar. They can very read- 
ily be subdivided without suf- 
fering a loss of thought. The 
concept, "building," can be 
subdivided into subclasses, 
educational, religious, busi- 
ness, and living buildings, 
each in its turn capable of 
further subdivision yet each 
maintaining the rational or- 
ganization of a Concept. 

2. A concept, on the con- 
trary, has great extension but 
less intension; vast denota- 
tion, but less connotation. A 
coin mon noun sums up many 
individual cases, but it pos- 
sesses differentiating charac- 
teristics. 

3. As a rule, the mind 
forms no image of a concept. 
Some psychologists insist 
that, under certain circum- 
stances, we may im-age a con- 
cept. Thus, Home tells us, 
"We may conceive of a 
mountain of gold." This is 
the popular use of "con- 
ceive" in the sense of "imag- 
ine." The mind calls up 
first the image of "gold" 
from some object of this 
metal; second, the image 
"mountain" in reproduction 
of some mountain seen in the 
past; these two images are 
fused. There seems to be a 



336 



Education as Mental Adjustment 



4. It is obvious, there- 
fore, that a percept is merely 
the mental photograph of ex- 
periences that are stimulating 
the senses. 

5. Percepts resulting from 
observation lead, therefore, 
to fact knowledge. 

6. Percepts are, as a re- 
sult, fixed in content. 



7. Since the perception 
gives individual fact upon 
fact, it leads only to mental 
growth. 



tendency in the mind, not to 
deal with general notions, but 
to call up a typical, constitu- 
ent member of the concept. 
In thinking of "mountain" 
we do not think of mountains 
in general, but merely bring 
before the mental eye a type, 
a representative image of 
some one mountain, which re- 
flects the characteristics of 
the class. 

4. A concept, on the con- 
trary, is a cumulative result 
of knowledge past and pres- 
ent, of ideas that have under- 
gone a gradual process of re- 
finement and elaboration. 

5. Concepts, on the con- 
trary, the result of compari- 
son, relation, and generaliza- 
tion, give thought knowledge. 

6. All concepts are con- 
stantly varying in content. 
Not only can we subdivide 
them, but we are constantly 
enriching them. How little 
the concept "animal" meant 
to us as children ; how com- 
prehensive it is to our adult 
minds. 

7. Since conception 
forms classes of ideas, pro- 
motes assimilation, it in- 
volves a higher form of men- 
tal activity which leads to 
mental development 



Conception 337 

Of the two forms of mental activity, perception and con- 
ception, the latter undoubtedly stands much higher in the 
psychic sphere. With judgment, and reason it forms, as 
we saw, the three forms of thought. 

Why Cultivate the Processes of Conception? — In the light 
of the preceding contrast the question, "Should Conception 
be Developed?" must be answered in the affirmative. There 
are additional specific reasons to which we must now turn. 

(a) It makes for mental economy through organization. 
Conception may be defined as the power to think the many 
into one. If not for conception, which prompts the grouping 
of knowledge into scientific classification, each fact would 
necessitate individual attention and would have to be cared 
for by itself. Under such conditions it is evident that the 
mental scope would be limited ; it is even doubtful whether 
we could keep track of a very small number of ideas if these 
remained separate and isolated. But with the ever-present 
tendency toward mental organization, all kindred knowledge 
is combined and retained in groups. Conception is the men- 
tal process which reduces experience to a least common de- 
nominator. By indexing and codifying knowledge it is con- 
tinually making for mental economy. 

(b) It makes reasoning possible. In reasoning, abstract 
relationship between ideas or percepts must be established. 
All the mental activities that were studied in the preceding 
chapters are dependent directly upon the concrete. But in 
conception, with its processes of abstraction and generaliza- 
tion, the mind makes the transition from those psychic results 
that need the concrete for their proper stimulation to those 
mental activities that are thoroughly abstract. 

(c) It makes science possible. A science deals with 
classified knowledge, the aim of which is to reach a general 
principle, a general law of universal application. This re- 
flects on a larger scale what a concept tries to do on a smaller ; 
science may therefore be defined as conceptualized and veri- 
fied knowledge. 

How Can We Help the Mind to Conceive ? — We must now 



338 Education as Mental Adjustment 

turn to the class-room application of this theory and psychol- 
ogy of mental development. Before doing so the student 
must understand that, in teaching, a psychological concept 
is equivalent to a definition of a term in grammar, to a rule 
in arithmetic, to a law in physics, or physical geography. 
Hence, stated in terms of a pedagogical problem, the ques- 
tion becomes, "How can we develop for our children richer 
and more intelligent definitions and laws in the subjects of 
class-room instruction?" The following may be useful con- 
structive suggestions to the practical teacher: 

I. When Possible and Practical, Arrive at All Concepts 
Inductively. — The inductive method of teaching begins by 
a presentation of the individual concrete things or processes 
and then leads up to the definition, the law, or the underly- 
ing principle. Although a concept may be a deductive re- 
sult, the component processes of conception, viz.. perception, 
comparison, abstraction, and generalization, naturally favor 
an inductive unfoldment in teaching. Deductive teaching 
simply imposes the rule or the definition — the concept — upon 
the child. Such a generalization is usually not so rich and 
so suggestive as one developed by a method of induction 
which takes the mind through the same steps that it would 
follow naturally if left to itself. This pedagogical conclu- 
sion may be illustrated in teaching the rule for multiplica- 
tion of decimals. The teacher may simply announce "to 
multiply a decimal by a decimal, multiply as in whole num- 
bers and point off as many places in the product as there are 
in both the multiplicand and the multiplier." The state- 
ment is memorized and applied mechanically. At first it is 
meaningless, but its use in a number of examples brings light 
into the darkness. Such teaching is neither invigorating 
nor attractive ; it does not stimulate mental activity which 
produces rich concepts. But, if we proceed on an inductive 
basis, the law, when finally evolved, is a summary of much 
thought, and the result of deep insight. The inductive les- 
son begins by presenting a number of examples in which it 
is necessary to multiply, .2 x .3, .02 x .3, .02 x .03. The 



Conception 339 

children realize that these problems present a new situation 
which they cannot solve. The teacher sums up this intro- 
ductory step with ""What shall be our next lesson in arith- 
metic?" and elicits from the children "How to multiply by 
decimals." The topic is thus motivated and the children 
have themselves stated the aim of the new lesson. 

The lesson proper begins with a number of sight multi- 
plications of the type of 10 x 10, 10 x 100, 100 x 10. The 
rule which the children know, "as many ciphers in the an- 
swer as there are in the two factors," is elicited. This rule 
is now used in solving the fractional examples of similar 
form, xV x j-L ^ x -jfo, T ^ ¥ x T V, etc. The 
teacher now asks the children to translate the common frac- 
tions into decimal forms and completes the following arrange- 
ment of work on the board: 



A 




B 


c 


10 x 10 


= 100 | 


T u x io = T Fo 


| .1 x .1 =.01 


10 x 100 


= 1000 | 


10 X TOO" = 1000 


| .1 x .01=.001 


.00 x 10 


=1000 | 


loo" x To = ToVo 


| .01 x .1 =.001 



A few questions asked of the children direct their atten- 
tion to the number of places in the product as compared with 
those in the multiplier and multiplicand. The knowledge 
that there are as many ciphers in the products of A and B 
as there are in the factors enables the children to evolve 
their own generalization for the "pointing off" in C. 

Their final statement is a summary of all the ideas they 
grasped, of all that they saw in the processes, and is far more 
illuminating and fraught with more meaning than would 
have resulted if the rule had been given them didactically 
in the deductive lesson. 

The Method-whole. — The steps in the evolution of a 
concept have been made basic in the organization of a for- 
mal inductive recitation called the " method- whole. " This 
is one of the fundamental contributions of the Herbartians, 
who sought to apply the lessons of psychology to class-room 



340 Education as Mental Adjustment 

practice. The method-whole is summed up in five suc- 
cessive steps. The first is the Preparatory Step, the apper- 
ceptive step in teaching, in which the mind is prepared for 
the assimilation of the new. Then follows the Presenta- 
tion, in which the child obtains perceptions of the separate 
and individual elements that are being taught. The third 
step is Comparison, in which the percepts are studied, re- 
semblances and differences noted and emphasized. This is 
followed by the Generalization, the step which formulates 
the definition or the rule and thus completes the induction 
and gives the concept. It is in this step that the child ob- 
tains a clear, unified impression from all the separate and 
varied percepts. But induction as a process of instruction is 
incomplete, for it leads only to the discovery of the general 
tendency or principle controlling the individual facts. We 
must see whether the law obtained holds in other specific 
cases ; we must verify it by applying it to specific instances. 
This is the Deductive Step, the Application which must fol- 
low every induction if we hope to make the concept accurate 
and lasting. Kant tells us that percepts that do not lead to 
a concept are blind, but a concept which does not fall back 
upon concrete, individual cases is empty. In life the pupil 
meets specific cases and individual problems. Knowledge in 
the general form would, therefore, prove useless. The Ap- 
plication seeks to develop skill in the use of our mental pos- 
sessions so that they can always serve our future ends. 

The method-whole, when interpreted liberally, used with 
great latitude, and regarded as a mode of organization rather 
than a pedagogical straight- jacket, brings gratifying results. 
The development of the recitation is thus inductive, well- 
systematized, and follows the mind's own course of evolution. 
Inductive sequence is not the artificial organization that 
many teachers feel it to be. The lessons learned from life's 
cumulative experiences are inductive in their nature. The 
business man orders his stock for the coming season with the 
sad lessons of past failures uppermost in his mind. He 
learned that style is an important item in the proper stock, 



Conception 341 

that the status of the general industry and prosperity of the 
people determines the number of customers, that the nature 
of the population governs the nature of the demand for 
goods, etc. Through the trials and errors of yesterday we 
plan each to-morrow. This is essentially an inductive proce- 
dure. The scientist, the inventor, and even the theoretical 
thinkers have developed an art of coming to conclusions 
that is intensely inductive, for, in any endeavor to reach an 
inference, they follow four steps. The first is the observa- 
tion of all the existing conditions, forces, facts, the scrutiny 
of the evidence. This is followed by an attempt to weigh the 
evidence, to eliminate useless conditions, to emphasize what 
seems all-controlling and guiding. The third step seeks to 
discover some one underlying tendency that seems to be oper- 
ating among all the facts. The final step consists in coming 
to a conclusion despite superficial conflicts and variations. 
Induction is the obvious law in such sequence. An examina- 
tion of many of the conclusions we reach in the course of 
daily life will reveal a rather close reproduction of these 
steps. 

But there are teaching conditions and class-room circum- 
stances that warrant the pursuance of a deductive method 
without apology. There are topics that are long and in- 
volved, generalizations that are confusing in their complexity, 
— these must be told. An inductive development only adds 
to the confusion and the complexity. To teach long divi- 
sion, or the advanced facts of grammar inductively, is a lav- 
ish expenditure of energy and a reckless disregard of time. 
Some topics are taught for transitional purposes, or to meet 
the demands of courses of study or local convention. In such 
instances, deductive teaching meets the end most economically. 

II. Arrive at the Concept through Motorization. — The 
principle of motorization and dramatization discussed at 
length in a preceding chapter, when embodied in teaching, 
must lead to better concepts for two reasons. In the study 
of perception and the means of aiding the mind to perceive, 
we saw the inestimable results which come from learning to 



342 Education as Mental Adjustment 

know a thing through doing, through actual creation. The 
conclusion is therefore inevitable that the clearer and sharper 
the percepts of the individual things or acts, the richer and 
truer will their concepts be. Motorization must therefore be 
again emphasized as a means of giving better conception. 
The second justification for this principle is the fact that the 
motor characteristics of any experience always appear the 
most striking to the child. Since a concept, i. e., a definition, 
a law, a principle, seeks to embody the most essential quali- 
ties, it follows naturally that to teach through motorization 
is a means of emphasizing what is most vital in the presenta- 
tion. How prominent these motor characteristics are we can 
see from a superficial observation of the kind of definitions 
children give for common objects. Thus they tell us — 

A knife is to cut with, Chimney, to go in by Santa 
A pin is to stick with, Claus, 

A mind is to think with. Song, to fly and sing, 

School, all children go in, Money, to put in your pocket, 

Church, all people sing, "Wallpaper, to not scratch it, 

Cow, what is milked, Baby, to put in a carriage, 

Picture, to look at, Napkin, to put around the 
Water, to throw stones in, neck, etc. 

In all of these, action is focal in the child's conscious- 
ness. Since children define and conceptualize in terms of 
action and f miction, we must teach by making the motor ap- 
peal strongest. Then, too, we may note, in passing, that the 
child is wise in his attitude, for the function, the use of an 
object, is the most essential element in it. 

ITT. Place Ihi Burden of Generalization upon 1h< Child. 
— "When the recitation reaches the fourth step — the generali- 
zation — the question, "Who should evolve the law, the defi- 
nition, or the principle?" is uppermost. Teachers who call 
upon their pupils for a statement of the generalization find 
thai the child seems unprepared, for he hesitates and takes 
hold of the wrong end. Generalization is a difficull step for 



Conception 343 

the child. An investigation into the reasons brings two im- 
portant causes to the surface. 

Why is Generalization Difficult, for the Child? — A child 
is often lost in the generalization because the ideas and rela- 
tions gathered in a study of the individual facts are not clear. 
He may see too much or, on the contrary, too little. The 
child who calls parents a pronoun because it stands for father 
and mother sees too much. For him the difficulty in arriving 
at a generalization of the pronoun is just as great as if he 
saw too little. Then, too, he may understand each individual 
case, but he may not see deeply enough to discover the under- 
lying connection, likeness, or unity of aim which will enable 
him to organize them all into the one concept. After the 
teacher's demonstration and explanation of a fraction the 
children concluded, "A fraction is a part of a thing." They 
did not see in all the individual examples given by the teacher 
the relationship of equality among the parts of the unit, 
and therefore gave a faulty generalization. As children be- 
gin to apply such a definition or law they uncover its limi- 
tations in the vast number of instances that come to the 
surface. 

Children find the generalization difficult because of pauc- 
ity of vocabulary. The child's comprehension of the facts 
presented and compared may be accurate and reliable, but 
he cannot sum up his conception because he lacks the neces- 
sary phraseology. It is true that words are only a test of 
the child's comprehension, that the thought, not the mere 
phraseology, must be considered the important element; but 
the child must nevertheless word his ideas w r ell enough to 
make the teacher feel that the concept is grasped. Although 
words are only the mechanical part of the definition, they 
are nevertheless a sine qua non in the lesson. 

Who Sliould Generalize? — In the light of this analysis 
the initial question, "Who should evolve the generalization?" 
is answered. Since the difficulty is a twofold one, of thought 
and of expression, it is obvious that both teacher and chil- 
dren must generalize. The best form of teaching demands 



344 Education as Mental Adjustment 

that the thought of the concept should be formulated by the 
child, while the language should be modified and refined by 
the teacher. If the thought element of the rule comes from 
the teacher, what assurance have we that the child has a 
clear, definite comprehension of the individual incidents 
and facts presented, or that he has grasped the underlying 
tendency? The generalization must be the result of the 
pupils' own self-activity; in the initial step they may state it 
in their own limited way, with all their glaring deficiencies 
of expression. For this reason the teacher may supply the 
more select words, but this may be done only after he has 
obtained sufficient evidence of the clearness and definiteness 
of the children's ideas. Thus we may object to the definition, 
"a preposition is a word that shows the business a noun 
has with any part in the sentence." With all its crudity of 
expression, it reveals comprehension of the verbal relation- 
ship taught. The temporary language difficulty is solved 
by the teacher after the child gives such a guarantee of un- 
derstanding. 

The Stereotyped Definition. — "While it is true that a defi- 
nition should be well worded when finally stated, we must 
nevertheless take extra precautions with the stereotyped 
forms. How often do we hear children recite, "An abstract 
noun is the name of a quality, considered apart from its sub- 
stance," "A concrete noun is a common noun that denotes 
an object or a class of objects by a union of qualities," etc. 
But when we ask the children to explain or to apply these 
well-worded definitions, what dire results! In the words 
of McMurry, the child and the teacher are playing "hide 
and seek" with phrases. They are "masquerading with 
words." Words here are empty sounds, not vehicles of 
thought. How much more satisfactory would be the informal 
definition given by the children, "an abstract noun is the 
name of a quality that cannot be seen or touched; a concrete 
noun is the name of a thing that can be seen, touched, or 
heard." To be sure, the wording is less elegant, and the 
statement unscientific, but there is a positive thought foun- 



Conception 345 

dation that makes the words symbols of ideas. What child 
understands the meaning of "considered apart from its sub- 
stance," "a class of objects by a union of qualities"? 

How Shall Children Learn Definitions? — The best method 
of treating a definition is not even to require the children 
to memorize the one constructed by them and modified by 
the teacher. Instead of the all too common practice of 
memorizing set definitions we ought merely to ask the child 
to remember the thought elements in definitions. Thus in 
learning the preposition the children memorize (1) it con- 
nects, (2) shows relationship; in studying the active tran- 
sitive verb, (1) shows action, (2) action goes over to an 
object; in considering division of fractions, (1) select the 
divisor, (2) turn it upside down, (3) multiply. These the 
children learn after they are derived in the class. When 
called upon to recite in the future they frame their own 
definitions bringing in these thought elements. The mistakes 
in language are corrected by the teacher. Having the com- 
ponent ideas, the words will not only follow more easily, 
but will also mean more, for the child is concentrating on 
thought, trying to reproduce ideas, not sounds learned in 
parrot fashion. 

The Generalization a Communal Result. — There is no par- 
ticular advantage in making a rule or definition the result 
of any one child's effort. We should learn to accept as much 
as a pupil offers. Generalization is difficult and a pupil 
should be credited for seeing a part or a phase of the truth, 
if he cannot see the whole of it. Let each child feel that he 
can contribute one iota, can suggest one trifling change or 
improvement of his neighbor's work, can add something in 
accordance with the hints and suggestions that the teacher 
is giving. We may be seeking four elements in generalizing 
toward the end of the lesson on "Burgoyne's Invasion," but 
no one child may be able to give more than one. Accept 
each until the generalization is built. One child sees "There- 
fore England had to abandon the idea of cutting the colonies 
into two," another "it encouraged our disheartened troops," 
23 



346 Education as Mental Adjustment 

a third "It brought us French aid," etc. The children feel 
that they are working toward one common goal, that the re- 
sult is a communal result which belongs to no one exclusively. 
The generalization, finally established, has a peculiar mean- 
ing and warmth for each child because each individual sees 
his own personal effort and thought reflected in the com- 
posite whole. 

Value of Placing Burden of Generalization Upon the 
Child. — In the practice of placing the burden of generaliza- 
tion upon the child, there are a number of inestimable teach- 
ing advantages which we cannot afford to lose. These may 
be grouped under three captions: (a) This form of teaching 
arouses a maximum of self-activity on the part of the child. 
The pupil must be active, think deeply, concentrate to his 
utmost if he is to formulate a generalization to cover all the 
specific cases presented in the lesson, (b) It is an excel- 
lent means of testing the scope and accuracy of the pupils' 
knowledge. In expressing his concepts, the child betrays 
whatever superficialities and misconceptions he may have in 
his mind. The teacher watches carefully for these limita- 
tions, for they determine the gradation of succeeding les- 
sons, they indicate what must be retaught and where the 
teacher's methods were at fault, (c) In the presentation 
step of the recitation the teacher hopes to give a great 
number of varied impressions from the multiplicity of data. 
When the child generalizes he not only gives expression to 
these impressions, but he sums them up in one general idea. 
Hence we may say that the final advantage of this teach- 
ing practice is that it causes a unified expression of the 
many and varied impressions. 

When Learn a Stereotyped Form of a Generalization? — 
There are exceptional teaching situations in which a text- 
book generalization may well be adopted. Usually the 
teacher who knows his subject and is developing it in his 
own way finds that he can do better by using his own defini- 
tions and statement of rules. Having been developed by 
teacher and pupils, such generalizations seem to mean more. 



Conception 347 

If the statement in the book is a duplication of the one de- 
veloped in the class, it is obvious that we may use it. There 
are times when a formal generalization has superior merit and 
is expressed in a commonly accepted, or a classical, form. 
At the end of a reading lesson the children and the teacher 
conclude, "it is better to be right than strong," or "it is 
easier to win if we are together." In such cases, we should 
not hesitate to teach "Right makes might," for the first, and 
"In unity there is strength" for the second statement. 
These expressions being proverbial, there is intrinsic worth 
in the very phraseology. 

Can the Generalization Ever Be Omitted? — It frequently 
happens in the course of teaching that occasions arise when 
a formal generalization is better omitted than expressed. In 
long arithmetical processes like square root, least common 
multiple of large numbers, long division, in complicated con- 
ceptions of grammar like case, mood, etc., the concrete facts 
and the solution of problems are far more desirable and help- 
ful than the long and laborious statements. The child who 
can find the square root of 5025, the L. C. D. of £, f, f, 
|, who can differentiate the various specific cases and 
moods, when he meets nouns and verbs in sentences, has just 
as great a mastery of this knowledge as his classmate who 
mouths the long, pretentious generalizations. "Where the 
child shows ability in applying knowledge, insistence on 
formal statements entails unjustifiable expenditure of time 
and mental energy. 

IV. "Review" and "Thoroughness" are Aids in Proper 
Conception. — Another means of giving the child a better 
general conception of the subject taught, is to enrich it 
through reviews and thoroughness of treatment. In an 
earlier chapter it was shown that review and thoroughness 
in the technical educational sense mean a new view and 
deeper insight into the first conclusions that were evolved. 
The following may be offered as further illustrations of the 
point : in teaching the climate of South America the teacher 
explains that Argentina is very fertile in its southern part; 



348 Education as Mental Adjustment 

that Chile is a desert in the same latitude. The reasons 
given are that in that particular region of the South Tem- 
perate Zone the prevailing winds are easterly, and as there 
are no mountains on the eastern coast of Argentina the 
clouds are brought over the land and drop their moisture; 
but, by the time they come to Chile, either the water in the 
clouds is all gone, or the mountains stop their travel. Hence 
Argentina, being east of the Andes, receives all the benefits 
of rainfall and has the Pampas with their luxuriant growth 
of grass, while Chile is only a desert. In "reviewing" the 
climate and rainfall of this region the teacher asks: "What 
would happen if the Andes were brought over to the eastern 
coast?" To trace the new conditions and account for all 
that the child says will take place necessitates not only a faith- 
ful reproduction of the explanation given, but a deeper and 
truer grasp of the governing laws of climate. This then is 
"review," "thoroughness," in the technical sense, as op- 
posed to mere drill. It is evident that such treatment of a 
topic gives a concept which is more suggestive, richer in 
meaning, and more accurate in its intellectual grasp. So, 
too, such questions as: "What would happen to the desert 
of Sahara if we placed a high mountain range along the 
northern coast of Africa?" "What would happen if the 
Alps were removed from Europe?" "What changes would 
you expect in (1) climate, (2) products, (3) industries and 
occupations, if the Appalachian and Rocky Mountain sys- 
tems were interchanged?" are review questions which seek 
to give a more thorough concept. 

V. Correlation as a Means of Enriching Concepts. — The 
new points of view that are the essence of the thorough re- 
view can be brought about through a wise use 'of correlation 
in teaching. To show the geographical side of a history les- 
son, the historical side of a geography lesson, to analyze in 
the grammar period those sentences of the literature whicli 
presented difficulty in interpretation, to write compositions 
on the men studied in history, to study the detailed commer- 
cial geography of England in the same class where we teach 



Conception 349 

the development of her commercial supremacy, to base the 
whole slavery question on the geography of the United States, 
— are examples of correlation, which seek to give better in- 
sight, enriched comprehension, and additional points of view, 
until there result concepts rich in thought and deep in inten- 
sion. To tell the class studying territorial expansion that 
we obtained Florida in 1819, because the Indian outrages 
and the alleged complicity of the Englishmen so angered 
Andrew Jackson that he completely forgot himself and 
marched into foreign territory, despite the international 
regulation which forbids such action, gives one conception, 
a meager and unsatisfactory one at best. But when the les- 
son is correlated with geography, the child sees that West 
Florida contained the mouth of the Mississippi River, that 
the United States could not obtain all the benefits accruing 
from the possession of the Mississippi without enjoying un- 
deniable ownership of the mouth. The teacher can readily 
make the pupils see that the Indian outrages were almost a 
welcome provocation to march into the territory and begin 
a little trouble, thus offering a good reason to start negotia- 
tions in the hope of convincing Spain of the wisdom of sell- 
ing Florida to us. At the time of the purchase of Florida, 
the United States saw little value in the unoccupied penin- 
sula, and was not at all alarmed at the threatened complica- 
tions with Spain ; West Florida was the desired land. With- 
out correlation with geography this history lesson means 
little; with it we give a deeper conception of the problem 
of territorial and commercial growth. 

Psychological Justification of Correlation. — Aside from 
these practical advantages, correlation finds no difficulty in 
justifying itself on psychological grounds. A fundamental 
psychological law teaches that nothing remains isolated in 
the mind. A new fact is seized upon by old ideas and asso- 
ciations; innumerable relationships are at once established 
between itself and the stock of old knowledge. Until this 
association takes place a new fact remains meaningless. A 
primary maxim of teaching hence advises, "Establish for 



350 Education as Mental Adjustment 

any fact as many relevant associations as possible." In dis- 
cussing the type form of presentation, we saw that the same 
unifying and integrating principle holds true in the world 
of fact as in the world of ideas. All subjects are branches of 
one universal subject; they are only different view points of 
the same mass of material. The fact that all mentality is 
opposed to isolation and that all knowledge is really one, 
makes correlation an exceedingly important principle in 
teaching, for the law of organization is the law of develop- 
ment. Correlation may be defined as that process in teach- 
ing which seeks to establish such connection and inter- 
relation of subjects, that unity of impression may result out 
of the great number and variety of subjects. 

Correlation in the Modern Curriculum. — The modern 
problems arising from the over-crowded curriculum make 
correlation a subject of more than passing interest. Com- 
paring the present school curriculum with that of one or 
two generations ago, we find that in the latter very few sub- 
jects were taught, primarily, because few subjects were 
needed. Life was far simpler than it is to-day. The average 
man felt that he was born in a certain station and that he 
must adjust himself to the best and happiest life in his own 
class. The social organization of the day tended to perma- 
nency, to continue the individual in the same stratum. Be- 
cause of this greater social stability and because of the simple 
demands which life made, even those in higher stations felt 
no need for much more than the three R's; a little philosophy, 
logic and history gave the elements of a liberal education. 
Though the channel of knowledge was narrow, it was never- 
theless deep. Fine subtleties and endless hairsplitting, which 
are characteristic of old text-books , give evidence of the 
courses of study of the past. 

What a contrast is presented in the elementary school 
curriculum of to-day with its long list of subjects: arith- 
metic, grammar, composition, spelling, dictation, reading and 
literature, history, civics, geography, nature study, drawing, 
music, manual training and the domestic arts, physical train- 



Conception 351 

ing, physiology and hygiene. A chance observation of the 
applications of science to every-day life impresses one with the 
complexity of modern existence. The comparative social fixity 
of yesterday has given way to keen competition and intense 
struggle which come with a wider scope of opportunities and 
newly awakened ambition. In the social flux of to-day every- 
one is striving for the next rung in the ladder. The new 
conditions under which we live are responsible for the new 
curriculum. It has come in answer to life's pressing needs. 
But while the channel of school knowledge has grown wider 
it has also become less deep. This inevitable result reflects 
the origin of two very common adverse criticisms of modern 
elementary school education, viz., the school is too encyclo- 
pedic in its extensive array of subjects, and its teaching is 
too superficial, for knowledge must be smeared thin in such 
an over-crowded curriculum. To these two indictments the 
modern school must plead guilty. An examination of its 
average graduates discloses irrefutable evidence. 

What remedial measure can be offered? The obvious 
solution presents itself to the student; — reduce the intel- 
lectual load which the school carries. The remedy is both 
temporary and unscientific. If we grant that each school 
subject was introduced not because of the whim of educa- 
tional supervisors, but to answer new needs of changing life, 
elimination is not an effective solution. If life's demands 
are the standards of addition to the curriculum, then most 
of the subjects must remain. We must seek the remedy in 
simplification and unification of the encyclopedic curricu- 
lum. With social need as a pedagogical standard, it was 
seen that much that is useless and merely traditional in 
each subject can readily be eliminated ; from this it is 
evident to the practical teacher that much deadweight in 
arithmetic, grammar, geography and history can be sent to 
the scrap heap of useless facts. With correlation as a guid- 
ing principle of teaching, the two criticisms cited can be 
counteracted, — not completely, — but to a very great extent. 
Correlation by inter-relating the vast knowledge stock would 



352 Education as Mental Adjustment 

produce a unified, compact, and well-organized course of 
study. Since correlation is also a means of association, of 
giving new view points to old ideas, it would result in in- 
creased thoroughness of comprehension. Concepts would, 
therefore, be fewer, richer, more lasting if organization 
through correlation were made a basic endeavor in teaching. 



SUGGESTED EEADING 

Angell. Psychology, Chap. 10. 

Dewey. How We Think. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 12. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 14. 

Schaeffer. Thinking and Learning to Think, Chap. 7. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chaps. 12 and 13. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE THOUGHT PEOCESSES OF JUDGMENT AND REASON 

The study of the thought activity began with the ques- 
tion, "How does the mind utilize all the material that it has 
perceived, apperceived, remembered and imaged?" The 
answer was, "Through the thought processes of conception, 
judgment and reason." We have already directed our atten- 
tion to the first ; we turn now to the other two, judgment 
and reason. These two are so closely related, shade into 
each other so constantly, so gradually and imperceptibly, 
that we shall study them together, especially their applica- 
tion. At the beginning we shall consider each alone ; hence 
we turn to the second of this trio of thought activities. 

II. Judgment 

The Nature of Judgment. — The first thinking activity, con- 
ception, produces concepts. After having reached some de- 
gree of proficiency with concepts the mind begins to group 
these concepts, to associate or dissociate them in a number of 
ways. We say, "Tigers are kinds of cats," — "Thinking 
is a useful process," — "Straightforwardness inspires confi- 
dence," — "Straight lines are shortest distances," etc., etc. 
These statements about concepts, called simple sentences by 
the grammarian, and propositions by the logician, are termed 
judgments in psychology and in teaching. 

When Do Judgments Arise? — All our previous mental re- 
sults and mental processes are quickly transferred into the 

353 



354 Education as Mental Adjustment 

realm of the habitual. The percept, we saw, is due to brain 
habits. Sensations that arc repeated and that are similar in 
nature and intensity call up the same habitual apperceptive 
mass; the fusion gives the percept, which is formed mechan- 
ically. If we have an available concept, it is called upon, 
and conception takes place in the same mechanical way. 
Hence all these forms of mental activity tend to mechanize 
our psychic life. But judgment rises above the mechanical 
and routine acts of the mind. It shows purpose and decided 
intent. A bicyclist rides daily over the same route ; the 
same obstructions and hindrances bring up the same reac- 
tion ; mechanically or automatically he solves each problem 
as it presents itself. But suddenly a new situation arises, 
for, as a rule, he is not forced into a position where he finds 
himself between two wagons and his escape cut off on both 
sides. Here is a new situation, demanding a new reaction, — 
lose the wheel and jump on the wagon, or keep the wheel 
and take chances of death! He decides, "The wheel is worth 
less than the risk," and he therefore jumps. This is an act 
of judgment, demanding purposeful and intentional action. 
We may say then that judgment will conic when we need a 
new adjustment, — a readjustment of old conditions or ele- 
ments in the environment. Hence, only as we present new 
conditions in teaching, show a conflict, a new agreement or 
a disagreement between old ideas, do we call up the child's 
power of judgment. The teacher must realize therefore that 
to tell children, "Think before analyzing the sentence or 
attempting the solution of the example," is one of those 
vague commands which brings added confusion and increased 
helplessness. If we want our pupils to think, the problem 
assigned must be definite and call for a new relationship in 
old experience. Such questions as, "Compare the govern- 
ment of New York Colony with that of Virginia," "Indi- 
cate what is given and what is to he found in this problem," 
"IIdw docs this hill practically repeal the Missouri Compro- 
mise." "To whal extent was .John Brown right in his pro- 
test againsl slavery," "What would you have done in Wash- 



Judgment and Reason 355 

ington's place at Long Island in 1776," "How would you 
test for the difference between the two words 'who' in the 
sentence, 'Who was it who came into the room'," are de- 
signed to stir the mind to thought without the direct com- 
mand of the teacher because they suggest possible conflicts 
or readjustments in old subject-matter. 

Judgments, we noted from the examples given, contain 
two concepts and express a relationship between them, 
"straightforwardness and confidence," "thinking and useful 
acts," "tigers and cats," etc. In all cases a verb connected 
these two concepts and the three elements formed the entire 
result of the mental process in judging. Hence we may de- 
fine judgment as a purposeful and intentional act of the 
mind in which we seek to discover the relation between any 
two ideas or concepts. Other definitions advanced are : 
' ' Mental function and act of predication or assertion. " " As- 
serting an agreement or disagreement between two ideas," 
"The process of discovering relationships between two 
ideas," "The process of coming to a decision." As a rule 
we find that the typical definitions that are cited fail to 
emphasize the fact that a judgment must not be placed in 
the same group with the mechanical reaction of the mind. 
In defining judgment it is necessary to state clearly its inten- 
tional and purposeful nature. 

Relation of Judgment to Other Modes of Mental Activity. — 
Judgment has been called the elemental process of the intel- 
lect. This is due to the fact that it is basic in perception, 
apperception and conception. In fact, no form of psychic 
life is free from it. Unless we judged, we would never call 
up the proper apperceptive knowledge, nor could we, as in 
conceptualization, compare percepts and find those likenesses 
which are inherent and basic. "Without judgment of one 
kind or another the content and the spirit of our psychic 
activities would be lost. This fact we must note for educa- 
tion, but the quibble as to which is first, perception or judg- 
ment, is useless, for it restates the old puzzle of the egg and 
the hen. 



356 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Kinds of Judgment. — There are as many kinds of judg- 
ments as there are writers on education and psychology. 
Each one forms his own classification for general use. We 
must notice one important classification, Intuitive vs. De- 
liberative Judgments, for it appears very frequently in our 
educational literature. 

When a judgment is performed instantaneously, without 
deliberation and conscious effort, it is known as an intuitive 
judgment. A better name would be "habitual judgment." 
It characterizes the expert as against the ordinary layman, 
for "Intuitions are beliefs and judgments which present 
themselves spontaneously to the mind with irresistible evi- 
dence, but without the assistance of memory and reflection 
....They are forms of knowing otherwise than by observa- 
tion and deliberation." The trained neurologist, from a 
momentary glance, pronounces the patient an epileptic. The 
expert surgeon, without reflection, instantly stops operating 
as a new symptom shows itself, or cuts deeper as the case 
may demand. The experienced teacher knows what child 
must be humored and which one can be "crossed." He 
seems to have a special gift which enables him to act intui- 
tively, and yet unerringly. Bagley, in his "Educative Pro- 
cess," classes intuitive judgments under three heads: (a) 
Sense Intuitions reflected in such exclamations as "It is a 
hat"; (b) Intellectual Intuitions exemplified by any mathe- 
matical axiom; (c) Moral Intuitions illustrated by such 
moral estimates as "Honesty is a desirable trait of char- 
acter," "Deception is a vice." 

Deliberative judgments on the contrary are the result of 
reflection and deliberation. "Every man is equal before the 
law," "Violence is never justifiable," are examples of judg- 
ments so obtained. Of the two kinds of judgments the in- 
tuitive is by far the more reliable. This classification is 
helpful because it emphasizes the degree to which our mental 
lives are dominated by the laws of habit. It was shown that 
perception, apperception and conception are mechanical and 
habituated acts of the mind. But judgments, whose dis- 



Judgment and Reason 357 

tinguishing characteristic in the initial stage is the fact that 
they are not mechanized, tend as far as they can to become 
habitual, so that a reaction can take place within as short a 
lapse of time and with as little deliberation as possible. 

Causes of Defective Judgment. — In our general experience 
we discover how frequently untrained minds judge incor- 
rectly. In diagnosing these incorrect judgments one finds the 
cause of error in one or more of four conditions. Passing 
mention of each of these may prove helpful to the teacher 
confronted by the problem. 

(a) Lack of Experience. — The mind has an actual aversion 
for individual facts and experience. In its desire to con- 
ceptualize and relate experience in judgments it forms con- 
clusions from a few accidental facts. The plural of "lady" 
and "baby" is "ladies" and "babies" respectively, hence 
the child concludes, "all plurals of singular nouns ending in 
'y' are formed by changing the letter 'y' to 'i' and adding 
'es' "; but when we ask, "How about 'boy,' 'boys'," the 
pupils realize that "jumping at a conclusion" from limited 
data causes erroneous judgments. 

(b) Lack of Clearness of Ideas is obviously another fre- 
quent cause of defective thinking. 

(c) Lack of Reflection. — It was just noted that the 
mind has a tendency to leap to conclusions. In this mental 
impatience, superficial relations and accidental likenesses are 
taken for basic qualities and judgments are made accord- 
ingly. With no appreciable reflection whatsoever a student 
concludes "the whale is a fish." A moment's thought and 
hesitation would have shown that the few accidental peculiar- 
ities noted in passing observation are insufficient evidence for 
such a judgment. Teachers are constantly finding lack of 
reflection an aggravating cause of incorrect thinking. Chil- 
dren seem ever ready to answer questions as soon as they are 
asked. If time for reflection were taken the number of ab- 
surd and irrelevant answers would be perceptibly decreased. 
Some teachers find it advisable to refuse to accept answers 
until a number of seconds have elapsed. Not until the signal 



358 Education as Mental Adjustment 

is given are hands raised. This tends to break the impulse 
to speak immediately and in the meantime the mind is forced 
to examine its conclusions and perhaps realize the ridiculous- 
ness of the answer. To forbid raising of hands is not a bad 
practice. Children must wait until called upon, and the 
teacher waits long enough for them to think. Another prac- 
tice designed to discourage this tendency toward hasty judg- 
ments is to state the conditions of a problem, without ask- 
ing a question ; a number of children will invariably raise 
their hands to answer, only to regret their haste when they 
realize that a trap was set for them. The grade teacher is 
driven to such petty methods and devices in the attempt to 
discourage faulty judgments due to lack of deliberation. 

This lack of reflection shows itself in other ways. Too 
many people accept views and opinions of others without 
subjecting them to individual scrutiny. Blind authority 
makes mental parrots of us all. How many go hiding be- 
hind words whose meaning is unknown ! How quickly are 
we crushed intellectually because the accusing finger is 
pointed to the recognized authority ! How dare we accept 
any other statement, follow the dictates of personal judg- 
ment in the face of authority ! The lecture method, alto- 
gether too prevalent in the college and the high school, is 
already showing the inevitable results of a system of instruc- 
tion based on the receptacle theory of the mind, glorifying 
in the quantitative aspect of knowledge, and making for 
mental subserviency. There are conditions where the lecture 
method of instruction is the only system possible, but it is 
no exaggeration to state that fully half the lecture courses 
follow this mode of instruction for no legitimate reason. 
Much of the mental indolence and the emasculated thought 
of college students can be laid to the door of the lecture sys- 
tem. As was observed in the discussion of the drill lesson, 
the degree of discomfiture which a method produces among 
the students is often a direct measure of its pedagogical 
merit. We must teach our students that men think with 
llioir backbones. 



Judgment and Reason 359 

The elementary school teacher, however, may well ask, 
"How far shall we encourage children to challenge our 
statements? Shall we merely allow them the liberty to ask 
questions when they are in doubt? If our answers do not 
convince, because the children do not understand them, shall 
we respect the pupils' views?" These questions cannot be 
answered absolutely. George Eliot tells us, "Let children 
accept everything and they are mental slaves — reason all 
the time and they become monsters." 

As a general policy we may say that when it is a ques- 
tion of taste or of preference, let the child have its own 
way. If, on the contrary, it is a matter of fact, then the 
child must submit absolutely, and accept the teacher's au- 
thority as final. Thus, a child's design may violate the law of 
harmony, but he likes it better than the one suggested by 
the teacher. It is of greater benefit to let the child have 
his assthetic preference than to force a result upon him that 
is not to his liking. If it is a matter of perspective, then 
the teacher's suggestion must be followed, for now it is a 
matter of right and wrong. 

(d) Bias of Feeling. — Our mental prepossessions and 
our prejudices determine the attitude and very often the 
outcome of an act of judgment. A person prejudiced against 
tariff sees free trade arguments in nearly all statistics and 
in all phases of our national development. Since knowledge 
cannot be made purely intellectual and divorced absolutely 
from its emotional accompaniment, it follows that each fact 
arouses in us a feeling for, or a feeling against, itself. An 
absolutely impartial judgment in practical matters is im- 
possible. It is obvious that our judgments are biased by 
our moods and caprices. When we are in one frame of mind 
we decide one w T ay, when in an opposite temperamental 
mood we decide to the contrary without conscious concern 
at the inconsistency. 



360 Education as Mental Adjustment 

III. Reason 

Nature of Reason. — In its thinking process the mind does 
not stop at the judgment which perceives relationships be- 
tween general notions. The mind soon sees agreements, like- 
nesses, basic differentia existing among the judgments it has 
made. That form of thought in which mind evolves rela- 
tions among judgments is psychologically known as "reason- 
ing." 

Origin of Reason. — Judgment always originates because 
of special needs and urgent readjustment. But after re- 
peated use it may become habitual, a mere mechanical per- 
ception of relation. Reasoning, on the contrary, does not 
descend to the automatic and the mechanical. "The tech- 
nical differentia in reason is the ability to deal with novel 
data." Since we placed judgment above conception because 
of the purposeful nature of its origin, we must place reason- 
ing even above judgment, for its chief characteristic is its 
power to determine new adjustments. 

The Steps in Thinking. — 1. A Conflict in Experience. — 
A clear knowledge of the steps in thinking is sjrviceable to 
the teacher desiring to evoke thought in pupils when attack- 
ing a new problem. The first step in thinking is the cue 
which stars the chain of thought. It comes, when, in the 
course of events, we note a conflict in experience. Thinking 
always starts when a problem arises naturally and challenges 
the mind to attempt its solution. The child who has an ele- 
mentary knowledge of "predicate adjective" in grammar finds 
that "The flower smells sweet," "He ground the razor 
sharp," "The food tastes good." are all considered correct, 
although his superficial examination prompts "sweetly," 
"sharply," and "well" respectively. The teacher places the 
heaviest pupil in a class in physics on one end of a board and 
the lightest child on the other. By placing the fulcrum at the 
proper point between the two the smallest pupil lifts the heav- 
iest, contrary to expectation. The class learning the multipli- 
cation of a fraction by a fraction notes that, although the sign 



Judgment and Reason 361 

X indicates "multiply," the answer decreases, despite the 
fact that every problem in the past suggests the opposite re- 
sult. Each one of these situations challenges the mind to 
attempt a solution. 

2. Recognition of a Problem. — The second step in 
thought follows naturally this initial signal, this challenge 
to reason. It is the definite recognition of a problem. The 
child realizes that his knowledge of predicate adjectives 
needs refinement, that he is unable to explain a simple occur- 
rence in the physical world, that he does not fully under- 
stand the nature of fractions, etc. It is this realization that 
a problem is calling for solution that prompts attention and 
effort, and indicates the point at which energy is to be ap- 
plied. The self-activity is not only aroused but also di- 
rected to necessary ends. 

3. The Attempts at Solution. — The third step finds the 
mind evolving possible solutions. Tentative explanations and 
seemingly appropriate hypotheses are applied to the prob- 
lem in the hope of producing comprehension. "Are these 
sentences catches; do we make exceptions to the law of ad- 
verbs for certain verbs; if the adjective form is used, then 
the reference is to the noun, not to the action; does common 
sense bear out the use of the adjective form?" etc. "There 
must be a catch below the board that changes the balance. 
Why is the fulcrum not in the middle ? Why is the end hold- 
ing the small boy so long, while the one holding the large 
pupil is so short? Has the unequal size of each side any- 
thing to do with this balance?" etc. These are a few typical 
mental attitudes of a vast number that the mind takes in 
its search for solution and final explanation. 

4. Evolving the Final Explanation. — In the fourth step 
observations and experiments are made to disprove one or 
the other of the hypotheses and find the explanation which 
accounts for the apparent conflict in experience. The child 
soon realizes that the sentences before alluded to are no 
"catches," that the board referred to is not balanced by a 
mechanical device. Gradually, through suggestions made by 

24 



362 Education as Mental Adjustment 

the teacher, the pupil realizes that the adjective is wanted 
because the noun and not the verb is modified, that the im- 
equal lengths of the board account for the ability of the 
smallest child in the class to lift the heaviest. The con- 
clusions are then formed and the correct theories are 
evolved. 

5. Verifying the Conclusion. — But theory must stand 
the pragmatic test, hence in the final step the mind applies 
the conclusion, the explanation, the hypothesis to new but 
similar situations. It may become necessary to modify, to 
limit or to refine the original conclusion, as the varied ex- 
perience of the future may suggest. 

Conclusion for Thinking. — A cursory examination of 
these steps in thinking brings two important conclusions to 
the mind. The first reflects the fact that in all training 
for efficiency in thinking, the school must present problems 
that are real, that reflect a genuine conflict in social life. 
Problems that are arbitrary concoctions of teachers and text- 
books are ill adapted to challenge the thought activities of 
the mind. The chapter dealing with interest sought to bring 
this idea home to the formal educators. The second con- 
clusion emphasizes the need of regarding mind as a unit in 
its action. The thought activity as outlined does not differ 
in nature from the activity in perception, in apperception, 
in imagination, or in conception. All these mental activities 
are the result of thinking, just as thought is based upon 
them. It is absurd, therefore, to hold that children do not 
think, that thought is initiated into mental life after a mystic 
age, or that the dawn of reason comes at the age of about 
twelve to dispel the darkness that held sway until its arrival. 

Forms of Reason. — The important forms of reasoning are 
the inductive, the deductive, and that of analogy. These are 
discussed fully in every elementary psychology and need not 
here detain us longer than merely to mention their names. 
We must pass on to the practical aspect of the problem. 



Judgment and Reason 363 

How Can We Help the Child to Think? 

I. By Emphasizing Study as Well as Teaching. — In the 
initial discussion of intellectual training we saw that there 
were three specific instructional aims to be borne in mind 
in teaching, viz., knowledge, power, and skill. Knowl- 
edge is termed the initial aim; it gives the facts necessary 
for complete adjustment. It is not placed high in the scale 
of educational endeavor, for it means mere taking and re- 
ceiving from others. Skill is known as the economic aim, 
for it seeks to make one dextrous and efficient in the use of 
the knowledge and the power that have been attained. It 
conserves human energy and thus increases life's possibil- 
ities. Power is the final aim in teaching, for it strives to 
make us masters of the source of knowledge, to develop 
initiative and the ability to get our own facts. The illus- 
trations served to impress the superiority of power over 
either knowledge or skill. 

Will Good Instruction Develop Good Study? — These con- 
clusions can be applied constructively if we attempt to 
formulate an answer to the question, "Will good methods of 
teaching develop good habits of study." If a child gains his 
knowledge from one who is gifted in the art of imparting, 
will he be able to study more efficiently as a result of the 
pedagogical procedure of the teacher ? 

A superficial view seems to indicate an affirmative answer. 
The reason is two-fold. All good teaching is inspirational. 
It arouses a desire on the part of the child to pursue the 
subject, to find additional material, and enjoy a richer pos- 
session. Good teaching can undoubtedly arouse a willing- 
ness to study and to put forth greater effort to master a sub- 
ject. But we must not confuse "willingness to study" with 
"ability to study." While the possession of the former is 
a great help to the latter, it is no guarantee of greater ac- 
complishment. 

The second reason that may be urged is that the child is 
imitative. He will follow his teacher and learn to develop a 



364 Education as Mental Adjustment 

subject as clearly and as systematically when he studies by 
himself. Thus, the argument runs, in geography the pupil 
perceives the teacher's method of presenting the lesson, its 
natural sequence and development from the primary facts 
to the climax, and then its conclusion; he cannot fail to see 
the deductions in the causal series, — how the teacher knows 
that the rivers flow east and west, because the mountains 
run north and south, or how the industries are deduced 
from the physical map. This method of procedure the child 
may duplicate in his own work. From actual class-room ex- 
perience the teacher knows that the child does not do so. 
Aside from this practical evidence we find upon closer ex- 
amination that from a purely theoretical basis the answer 
to our question must be negative. 

What is the layman's conception of a good teacher? It 
is evidently a person who knows his subject, presents it in 
an orderly fashion, traveling gradually from the simplest to 
the less simple, and on to the most complex principles, illus- 
trates each new step by concrete examples taken from the 
child's life and experiences, explains away difficulties by 
showing their nature and their dependence, makes each step 
an outgrowth of the last, and — above all — unfolds the whole 
panorama in a most vivid and interesting manner. But 
throughout all this process what is the pupil doing? He is 
merely following. The teacher is the leader, the initiator. 
It is he who does the difficult work, he who is the pioneer 
and frontiersman in overcoming every obstacle. The pupil 
is dependent, he walks in the mental footsteps of his master, 
he follows in the path already blazed for him. But in study 
the scholar must be his own leader; he must be the initiator. 
Each succeeding difficulty is a new battle for him to win, for 
each perplexity solved is a victory whose glory redounds to 
his credit. Will a good follower make a good leader? Can 
it be argued that the child who can follow a good teacher 
will be able to study well when left alone? Will the good 
soldier necessarily be a good general, will a good subordinate 
inevitably become a good executive? The two activities, 



Judgment and Reason 365 

teaching and studying, are direct opposites; in the one the 
pupil is mentally dependent, he is mentally pauperized and 
is, in that measure, robbed of mental strength and courage. 
In the other, study, he is thrown on his own resources and 
as a result soon gains in force and power. 

The question, "Which is more important, teaching or 
study?" is already answered. From the foregoing we see 
that in teaching, the pupil is the passive recipient of knowl- 
edge, arranged, systematized, codified, essential and salient 
features selected, the whole well interrelated. He receives 
his knowledge in the predigested, tablet form. But in study 
the child is active ; he must find his facts, weigh them, choose 
the important ones, arrange and classify the data himself. 
He depends on his own ability. His own activity carries 
him through. Study is dynamic and gives power to find 
new material. Teaching, from the pupil's standpoint, is 
static, and at best presents old material. Class-room in- 
struction is hardly complete and certainly relatively unim- 
portant unless we constantly emphasize proper methods of 
study as well as proper methods of teaching, and thus en- 
deavor to serve the highest of the three aims of teaching, 
acquisition of power, as well as of knowledge and skill. 

Children Lack Ability to Study. — High school teachers 
are constantly complaining that the children sent to them 
by the elementary schools "can't think, can't study, do not 
know how to use a text-book, how to get out of it the rich 
storehouse of facts without being shown what to study, what 
merely to read, what to omit." They blame the elementary 
school teacher for making knowledge "too easy" and for 
indulging in "soft pedagogy." "While the last accusation is 
unjust, it is, however, true that our children are overtaught 
and "understudied"; that is why so many of them can- 
not get along in the high school, where more study is neces- 
sary and less teaching is done. To neglect to teach children 
how to study is almost equivalent to failing in one of the 
primary functions of elementary education, for if there is 
any one goal which we must set before us in our school work 



'AGG Education as Mental Adjustment 

it is to make independent, self-directing individuals. In the 
post-school days all knowledge must be gained by one's self 
through books. To neglect the proper use of the text-book 
is therefore to neglect to give the child a mastery of the great 
sources of knowledge, to deny him the most important means 
of self-education. A very vital question which we ask at this 
point is, "How shall we teach the child to study?" 

Children's Difficulties in Study. — Before suggesting a 
method of meeting the problem just outlined, it is essential 
that we realize that study is an exceedingly difficult process 
for the untrained mind. The causes of this difficulty will 
readily show the teacher what obstacles must be overcome in 
making the child an active rather than a passive student. 
The process of study finds the child almost helpless for a 
variety of reasons, chief among which we must name the fol- 
lowing : 

(a) As a learning process study is entirely new. Mc- 
Murry defines study as "The vigorous application of the 
mind to a subject for the satisfaction of a felt need." Here 
we have a process that makes the child the initiator, that 
proceeds from a specific motive, and that can be achieved 
only through the child's own aggressiveness. 

(b) In addition to the "personal application" there 
must be a "personal reaction" in all study. The student 
must ask and answer satisfactorily such questions as "Do 
I understand?" "Do I need this fact?" "Do I know it?" 
"Do I agree with it?" "Does my other knowledge bear this 
out?" A cursory examination of these questions indicates, 
at once, the inherent difficulties in studying. 

(c) Children are not successful in their attempts to study 
because they lack self-assert ivcnrss in academic matters. Their 
failure to ask questions and their backwardness in stating a 
disagreement are evidence of their hick in this respect. 

(d) Subservience to authority is another attitude that 
undermines efficient study. The word of teacher or book is 
never questioned by children. "Ipso dixit" is, too often, 
the all-sufficient reason. The child must not only overcome 



Judgment and Reason 367 

this mental attitude but must also develop a new one that 
makes for a critical spirit rather than one of docility. 

(e) The child's scattered interests, shifting and fleeting 
attention, and lack of concentration serve to add to the bur- 
den of study. This is intensified when we consider that 
study is a process that is inherently neither interesting nor 
attractive to the noisy, active, capricious physical natures of 
boys and girls. 

(f) Limited knowledge of the subject and lack of 
ability to read with intelligence and discrimination are two 
additional factors that make study loom up as a colossal 
task with insurmountable difficulties. To these we might 
add numerous others, if space permitted; but we have seen 
enough of the problem to realize the difficulties that confront 
the children and the patience with which the problem, "How 
to Study," must be approached and solved. 

Teaching Children How to Study. The Organization of 
the Study Period. — The average course of study in our 
country makes mandatory a study period of about thirty 
minutes each day. This is too often regarded as a period 
of relaxation and relief by both teacher and pupils, and is 
therefore assigned for the last half hour of the afternoon. 
A proper study hour means vigorous application and concen- 
tration, a period which calls for the best effort from teacher as 
well as pupils. What shall be the conduct of this period? 
Let us formulate our answer in the concrete, taking for illus- 
tration, a history lesson, "The Stamp Act." First, assign 
a definite lesson, which is to occupy the entire period, by 
topics and subtopics, rather than by pages. When children 
are asked, "What is your history lesson for to-day?" the 
answer often is "pages 57 to 60."' The more rational 
method of assigning a lesson is to announce that the Stamp 
Act is to be studied under the following topics: A. The 
meaning of the Act; B. Why Passed; C. Reception in 
America ; D. Repeal and Influence. This mode of assign- 
ment gives the children an idea of how to classify their facts, 
makes the work definite and emphasizes the basic principles, 



368 Education as Mental Adjustment 

not the accidental pages. To assign "pages 57 to 60" seems 
to indicate to a child "study all that you find there"; to 
assign by topics and headings shows him definitely what is 
expected of him. These headings not only give the pupils 
useful centers for grouping but serve to teach them organi- 
zation of facts. 

"How shall the child begin to study?" This is the next 
problem. Since the child does not know the art of study, 
the early study periods must be devoted to teaching the steps 
in studying. The children must be taught that in studying 
they should first read a paragraph for the general compre- 
hension and then extract from it its important contributions. 
This latter step is the most difficult for the children to 
grasp. To them studying is equivalent to memorizing. Ask 
children to define study ; their answers show that in their 
minds they have studied when they can repeat the author's 
text verbatim. They fail to realize that the art of study is 
often the art of omission. How can we bring home to their 
minds the absurdity of memorizing? Merely to forbid this 
is as foolish as it is useless. The best method is to show them 
how false the notion is through a method of "reductio ad 
absurdum." Select the same topic in two good histories and 
carefully analyze each with the class. Put the component 
ideas of each on the blackboard and then compare. The topic 
happens to be the "Stamp Act." We show the children 
that in some points these two authors agree, both give the 
definition of the act, when it was passed, its object, but the 
first adds that Grenville was the minister, the second omits 
this fact but observes that Franklin happened to be in Eng- 
land at the time. Through a question or two we can make 
plain to the children that, although these unimportant de- 
tails differ in the two books, both authors agree on the im- 
portant points and vary only in the minor details. Children 
can be made to see that, if study means to learn everything 
by heart, then to really study the history they ought to 
memorize both books; that being so, why not a third? In a 
few minutes they reach the conclusion that only the impor- 



Judgment and Reason 369 

tant ideas are to be learned. "What constitutes an impor- 
tant and an unimportant idea?" now becomes the pivotal 
problem for proper study. Weeks and weeks of practice in 
analyzing paragraphs in the history, in the geography, in 
readers, in magazines, and deciding which sentence is impor- 
tant and which is unimportant, are needed with a class that 
has not been taught to study. Children gradually acquire 
the teacher's point of view, learn by imitation, at first, what 
is necessary and what may be eliminated. 

When the children have attained some degree of skill 
and efficiency in differentiating essentials from non-essentials, 
we can proceed. They are now taught that those ideas that 
are judged important are to be learned in their proper 
sequence. That done, they proceed to the succeeding para- 
graphs and in the same way each is read for comprehension, 
analyzed for its important contributions, which are in turn 
memorized. When the end of the lesson is reached the child 
should be taught how to prepare a topical outline of the 
essentials of each paragraph. This outline is either written 
out or merely visualized. 

This is an outline of the process of study as far as the 
child can carry it out. Elementary school teachers will find 
that it takes conscientious work and untold effort of a whole 
term, at least, to develop in the children a little efficiency in 
studying. When we recall the difficulties that confront chil- 
dren in studying, this effort seems reasonable. Many edu- 
cators hold that a student has not studied until he has ques- 
tioned the text and has taken the attitude of critic as well 
as of passive learner. This requisite may be added in teach- 
ing advanced students the art of study. How may college 
sophomores and juniors read history, psychology, economics 
or literary criticism with such an attitude? How many of 
them are capable of such intellectual aggressiveness and of 
intelligent critical analysis of a text too often regarded as 
sacred? When we have answered these questions in the light 
of actual experience we shall readily see that this modified 
and simplified form of study is the maximum that can be 



370 Education as Mental Adjustment 

expected of elementary school children, study as a selective 
and critical activity must be reserved for students of second- 
ary and collegiate grade. 

Assuming that the children of the class have learned this 
form of study and have developed an elementary proficiency 
in the process, what shall be done in the study period after 
the proper assignment of the lesson by topics and subtopics .' 
The next step in the conduct of the study hour is to assign 
the first subtopic for a limited time of about six or seven 
minutes. To assign study work for the entire period usually 
leads to waste of time and diffusion of effort. Concentration 
for thirty minutes is impossible for children ; restlessness and 
inattention ensue. They have no conception of time; a half 
hour may be a very long time or a few moments. When the 
whole assignment is given at the beginning of the period, 
they either spend all the time on the first half of the topic 
or, in the rush to reach the end, they merely glance at the 
earlier subtopics only to have many minutes of idleness at 
the end. To insure concentrated effort a subtopic should be 
assigned for the limited time that was suggested. 

With children who are just beginning to master the pro- 
cess it is well to put study questions on the blackboard as a 
guide in differentiating the important from the unimportant. 
A paragraph in one of the common school geographies treats 
of the Gulf States, their leading product, the chief cotton 
markets, New Orleans and Mobile. The questions on the 
board may read: 

What is the leading product? 

What is its largest market? 

What is its second market? 

Why does the first excel the second? 
To study the paragraph assigned, means to find the answers 
to these four questions. But as progress is made in the study 
process this practice of giving study questions must be dis- 
continued, for it does for the children precisely what we 
want them to do for themselves. It is well to organize the 
questions as those above; of the four questions three are 



Judgment and Reason 371 

based directly on the text, while the answer to the fourth is 
only hinted at in the original paragraph. To give both types 
of questions helps to make the study hour a thought period. 
Set the children to work, then, for a limited time on a limited 
assignment. 

When the few minutes assigned for the first subtopic 
have elapsed, the class should come to attention as different 
children give what they judged to be the essentials. A 
child's answer should be criticised by his class-mates; they 
should suggest what was omitted but ought to be inserted, 
what was included but could well be neglected; in each case 
the reason must be given. As each idea is accepted it is 
placed on the blackboard, and at the end the teacher empha- 
sizes that, although the assigned paragraph contains seven 
ideas, only three or four have been accepted. It may be 
well to have the children jot down their answers on slips 
of paper; when the final answer is developed they compare 
it with their own and make the necessary changes. 

When the first partial assignment is thus completed the 
next paragraph or subtopic is treated in exactly the same 
way. The children are thus made accountable for each 
minute's work. But care must be taken to review the first 
paragraph at the end of the second, the first and the second at 
the end of the third, and so on to the end, otherwise the 
children lose the thread of the development, the unity of 
the lesson, and regard each paragraph as an independent, 
isolated entity, rather than an integral part of the whole 
topic. 

The subject of each day's study period should change 
from history to geography, arithmetic, grammar, spelling, 
etc., so that the children learn to apply the method to each 
of them. It is obvious that as the subject changes the 
method of study and the sequence of steps will change also. 
But the general principles and the leading characteristics 
of the lesson as outlined can be applied to any study situa- 
tion. A few illustrations may make this contention clear. 
The day's lesson in grammar taught the children singular 



372 Education as Mental Adjustment 

and plural in nouns and pronouns. When they understand 
"number," can distinguish one from the other, and can 
change the verb as the subject changes from singular to 
plural, the teacher's teaching work is over. The rules for 
forming plurals of words ending in "y, " in "f," in "o," 
the consideration of irregular nouns of the type of "sheep," 
"scissors," "radius," etc., treated in a page or two in the 
text-book, should be made the subject of the study period 
for the afternoon. In spelling, a teacher may assign a list of 
words like "value, read, conceive, change, pay, believe, allow, 
remove, note," etc. The children are told to add "able" to 
each, then verify the spelling by searching for each in the 
dictionary and finally formulate a rule of spelling as a re- 
sult of the changes found to be necessary. The subject of 
"Longitude and Time" comes late in the course in arith- 
metic. On the day preceding the teaching of this topic the 
study period can well be occupied by a review of latitude 
and longitude as treated in the geography ; the page or two 
containing the information should be studied by the method 
outlined. 

But under no consideration should the study period be 
turned into a general "coaching lesson." Conscientious 
teachers often make it a practice to reteach in the study 
period a particular lesson that was difficult and therefore 
was not grasped by the children. "With due appreciation of 
this effort, such practices must nevertheless be condemned. 
In the study period we must try to make the child an inde- 
pendent discoverer of facts. Class coaching intensifies the 
feeling of dependence and thus frustrates the aim of study. 
All reteaching must therefore be postponed for the next 
teaching period. 

The function of every study period should be five-fold : 
(a) to lead a child to acquire facts by himself; (b) to de- 
velop a spirit of self-reliance, to make the pupil independent 
of the teacher; (e) to train in the ability to concentrate, to 
apply one's self to a given task in a given time; (d) to de- 
velop the ability to extract the thought from a printed page ; 



Judgment and Reason 373 

to train the eye to find meaning in a mass of written words 
as the ear does with the auditory symbols; (e) to so marshal 
facts, to so select ideas, that the underlying principles stand 
out in relief, while the minor and insignificant data are 
properly subordinated. The objects of the study period are 
such as seek to give each child a mastery of those devices 
which lead to self-culture, to develop power so that the pupil 
can obtain for himself the heritage of knowledge that the 
race has bequeathed to him. 

II. Avoid Injudicious Use of the Type Form in Teaching. 
— The curriculum abounds with opportunities for exercising 
the reasoning activities ; the school subjects afford plenty of 
conditions and circumstances in which the child must think, 
but in our teaching we often reduce the rational to the 
mechanical, the thoughtful to the automatic, by misusing the 
type form. The most serious offenses are found in arith- 
metic and grammar. A few class-room practices may serve 
as illustrations. A teacher taught the area of a rectangle. 
Example after example was given, showing a varied word- 
ing, but in all of them the type form was followed very 
faithfully. The first example asked for the area of a floor 
20 x 12 ft., the second, of a wall 24 x 8 ft., the third, of a 
hallway 50 x 6 ft., the fourth, of a street 300 x 30 ft., etc. 
In each case the conditions were exactly the same. The 
floor was changed to a wall, a ceiling, a hallway, or a street, 
but the child mechanically multiplied the two numbers and 
paid absolutely no attention to the accidental changes of 
place. There was no thought in the work for there was no 
need of a rational endeavor to read the example, find what 
was wanted and decide on a line of work which would lead 
to the desired goal. Mechanically, the two figures announced 
by the teacher were multiplied and a mechanical result was 
obtained. Such are the inevitable results when the type is 
given undue emphasis. 

Just as soon as the children have grasped the idea, 
change the type by introducing as much variety as pos- 
sible. The succeeding examples should have read: "A 



374 Education as Mental Adjustment 

floor is 30 ft. wide, its perimeter is 150 ft. ; find its 
area." Here the impulse is to multiply 30 x 150, but the 
child soon sees that conditions are different, and accordingly 
the solution must vary. The next example should have 
called for the area of a hallway whose length is 50 ft. and 
whose width is £ of its length ; another should have re- 
quired the area of a field whose length is 60 rods, but whose 
length and width are 110 rods, or of a field twice as long as 
it is wide, measuring 40 rods in width, etc. The child must 
be made to feel that each of the examples presents a new 
set of conditions, that, although they are all about area, 
a line of work must be determined upon in each case. Fol- 
low the type and you reduce arithmetic to a dull, routine 
imitative subject. Vary the type, or avoid it after the initial 
drill, and at every point the subject presents need for reason- 
ing. The reason so many of our classes literally "go to 
pieces in arithmetic" when a stranger questions them, is pre- 
cisely the point under discussion, — an injudicious use of the 
type after the underlying principle has been grasped. 

The same caution is necessary in grammar. How many 
children always alight on the first noun and announce "sub- 
ject," the middle of the sentence, "predicate," and the end, 
"object or predicate complement." The cause of this prac- 
tice of analyzing by position rather than by thought is not 
hard to find. The type sentence has been used in which the 
parts follow in traditional order; the sentences all ran: 
"Columbus discovered America," "The bird flew over the 
housetops," "The Confederates seceded from the Union," 
etc. After the initial drill no two sentences should be alike 
in construction. If the first reads "The birds flew over the 
housetops," the second should be "Over the field, the army 
marched," the third "Across bogs and fenlands ran the cow- 
ardly army," etc. Undue emphasis upon the type in gram- 
mar as in arithmetic turns a rational subjeel into a mechan- 
ical one. 

What An tht Legitimate Uses of tin Type? -What thou 
are the legitimate uses of a type? In the main they are 



Judgment and Reason 375 

three. The first occurs in all teaching when' imitation is 
desired. In language work, for example, where correct 
speech is taught through imitation of models, the type sen- 
tence or form is very helpful. The drill lesson is a second 
teaching situation that makes the type form valuable. In 
teaching a new case in arithmetic, a new element in gram- 
mar, or a new principle in composition the type forms should 
be used throughout the introductory lessons after the new 
point has been grasped. Thorough mastery of the new pre- 
sentation is thus assured. A third legitimate use of the type 
is found in subjects where it is essential to give a bird's eye 
view of the whole through a series of well-selected observa- 
tional points. Thus, in teaching the cities of a new country, 
it was suggested to give, in detail, a picture of one of them. 
Let this be a type for all other cities in that country. If 
geography studies man and his life in the physical environ- 
ment, then a detailed knowledge of industries is absolutely 
essential. But since we cannot teach each industry inten- 
sively we select a number of typical ones. Coal mining is 
studied as a type of all mining industries, lumbering as a 
type of forest industry, cotton growing as a type of large 
plantation industry, etc., etc. To be sure, copper mining 
differs from coal mining, wheat raising from cotton growing, 
but there is enough in common to enable us to regard each 
one of these as a type of its kind of industry. A type was 
defined in our previous discussion, as a concrete individual 
thing or process representing a whole class. When we are 
seeking a short cut across the inductive field, a model for 
imitation, a medium for drill, the type has its judicious use. 
But when reason is to be emphasized it militates against the 
primary aim of the lesson. 

III. The Use of Socratic Questioning. — Children often 
carry away notions and impressions that are erroneous and 
exceedingly stupid. Merely calling attention to the miscon- 
ception or trying to explain it away does not always suffice, 
for the mind may take a stubborn attitude. An effective 
plan is to subject the child to a series of questions of the 



376 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Socratic form, which reduces the child's misconception to an 
evident absurdity, and thus convinces him of his error. 

The general criticism urged against the Socratic form is 
that it is altogether too destructive. It breaks down the mis- 
conception by showing its limitations or its absurdity, but 
little of a constructive nature is offered; nothing is done to- 
ward establishing a clear, definite conception of the correct 
idea. It forces the mind to think along a negative rather 
than a positive line. 

This criticism is not always pertinent. In applying it to 
class-room use the questions can be so framed and ordered 
that the pupils are led to one inevitable conclusion, — the cor- 
rect one. Thus a child tells us that "claim" is synonymous 
with "demand." Through a series of Socratic questions he 
can be made to realize his misconception and finally infer 
the correct meaning. The child is asked the following ques- 
tions: The robber claimed my money. Is that correct? The 
robber demanded my money. Is that correct? The colo- 
nists claimed the right to vote. Is that correct? I claimed 
the watch I lost. Is that correct? The pickpocket claimed 
my watch. Is that correct? The pickpocket demanded my 
watch. Is that correct? Does "claim" mean the same as 
"demand"? But is "claim" a kind of "demand"? What 
kind of a "demand"? The answer, "a rightful demand," 
is readily obtained. 

A teacher, reviewing the rectangle, called for its defini- 
tion. The first pupil offered "A figure with four sides." 
The teacher passed from child to child, each one repeating 
the same incorrect definition. The teacher, helpless in this 
situation, administered the usual scolding and was about to 
give the correct answer when the principal took the class. 
Eecourse to the Socratic method set the pupils thinking and 
soon elicited the proper definition. He placed a distorted 



four-sided figure on the board, thus: / band asked, "Is 
this a rectangle?" The negative answer was almost general, 




All 



Judgment and Reason 377 

and the reason assigned was, "the sides are not parallel." 
A second figure was then placed on the board, reflecting 

their suggestion, // "Is this a rectangle? 1 

agreed on the negative answer. The principal then said, 
"All the sides are parallel, what is the trouble?" Most of 
the pupils volunteered, "the angles must be right angles." 
The definition, "A four-sided figure with four right angles," 
was easily obtained. The Socratic method was most de- 
cidedly destructive in both these incidents, but it was not 
devoid of its positive influence, for it led the children to an 
inevitable conclusion, the correct one, evolved by themselves, 
because their reasoning power was stirred and directed. 

IV. Place the Child Upon Its Own Resources When Possi- 
ble. Make the Child Take the Initiative in a Situation Re- 
quiring Thought. — Various practices and habits of class man- 
agement adopted by the teacher tend to encourage the 
thought activity on the part of the children. As far as pos- 
sible the child should be thrown on his own resources and 
should be placed in situations where he must work out his 
own salvation when he is called upon for his conclusion. Let 
us consider some individual illustrations. 

In a previous connection we had occasion to refer to the 
irrelevant answers which children give to questions. All 
answers which are not pertinent to the question should not 
be rejected offhand, but should be turned over to the class 
and the other pupils should be asked to judge the relevancy 
of the answer given. Let them review the question asked 
and decide whether the answer has anything at all to do 
with it. This makes the children wary of saying the first 
thing that comes into their heads; it makes them test their 
answers and try to see a logical connection between question 
and answer. The first week or two of this practice will show 
little improvement, but a continuation of it will bring re- 
sults, for the children are on their guard and become critical 
of their answers. 

This practice of having children judge the relevancy of 
25 



37S Education as Menial Adjustment 

their classmates' answers can be carried even further in 

class work. Children should be made to feel that at all times 
they are liable to be called upon to criticise the work of a 
classmate. Thus, if one child recites his geography or his- 
tory, every other pupil should be ready to point out the 
errors made. In reading, this is especially helpful. It is a 
common experience to find children inattentive to class read- 
ing. Their interest in the content prompts them to read 
faster than the pace set by the teacher. To insure attention 
to the text, teachers resort to devices like requiring children 
to wait for the signal to turn pages, and the Like. Even 
such practices are not altogether successful. Many disci- 
plinary cases can be avoided if, as each child finishes his oral 
reading, we call upon the rest of the children in some promis- 
cuous order to criticise the work just completed. We must 
be sure to be extremely severe with those who, for the sake 
of answering, invent errors which were not made. We must 
also follow up those children who fail to detect the errors. 
Children are thus kept alive and alert to all that is going on, 
judging the correctness or incorrectness of what is being said, 
and are ready with a conclusion when called upon. 

A common form of correcting compositions is to have 
one child read his composition to the others in the class, and 
then receive their criticism and correction. This exercise is 
worth while, but we usually do not take full advantage of 
the opportunity it offers. The child criticised must be given 
a chance to defend itself. Excellent results are often ob- 
tained from such a practice. We find out how much of the 
child's work is accidental, and to what extent it is the result 
of deliberation and judgment. The following is a typical 
case that may be cited for illustrative purposes: A girl read 
her business letter applying for a position. It began, "I 
herewith apply for the position of," etc. One of her neigh- 
bors objected because "it was too sudden." She wanted the 
formal beginning like, "While reading the 'New York 
World,' 1 chanced to see your advertisement," etc. The 
child criticised refused to accept the correction on the ground 



Judgment and Reason 379 

that "a business letter should come to the point in as few 
words as possible." The controversy was then submitted to 
the teacher, but not until a fair criticism had been obtained 
from the class and an exceedingly wise defense provoked 
from the author of the letter. 

How stupid a manual training lesson often becomes when 
we crush the reason element out of it in order to obtain per- 
fect results through the elimination of all possibility of error ! 
It is a common practice in the construction of any useful ob- 
ject, e. g., a card case, to give out material for that part of 
it which can be completed within the period. The children 
follow faithfully such directions as "measure x inches down, 
y up, draw a horizontal line, bisect it, cut along the dotted 
line," etc. In the next lesson another part of the work is 
given out, the teacher dictates the measurements in the same 
way, and the children follow out her directions. At the end 
of the fifth or sixth lesson all the parts are given out, put 
together and pasted, and the child realizes that, through all 
these meaningless periods, he has been constructing a card 
case. Such work is based on blind, stupid following, spirit- 
less imitation, without a gleam of intelligence. As an exer- 
cise in obedience it may possibly be tolerated. 

Although the lesson is manual, there are plenty of op- 
portunities for reason and judgment. In the very beginning 
the children must be shown the completed article ; this is then 
separated into its most convenient parts, and suggestions as 
to what to make first, how to measure, where to cut for most 
economical use of material, should be obtained from the 
children. After the procedure for a particular part of the 
object has been decided upon, the teacher actually carries out 
the directions, using a certain set of measurements. That 
done, the children are set to work with new dimensions, so 
that the work shows originality, personal judgment, and is 
always more than a mere copy. In such a lesson the mis- 
takes are often most helpful for future independent con- 
struction. 

We can go on through the whole series of school subjects 



380 Education as Mental Adjustment 

in the same manner. They abound with opportunities for 
the use of good, sound, practical judgment and reason. 
Thinking is not a single faculty or a uniform process; it is 
the sum total of our methods of interpreting, judging, com- 
paring, contrasting, inferring, concluding, etc. The student 
who agrees with this conception of thinking must realize the 
absurdity of the traditional stand that some subjects like 
arithmetic and grammar have a "predestined fitness" to 
develop thought. "Any subject from Greek to cooking and 
from drawing to mathematics is intellectual, if intellectual at 
all, not in its fixed structure, but in its function — in its 
power to start and direct significant inquiry and reflection. 
What geometry does for one, the manipulation of laboratory 
apparatus, the mastery of musical composition, or the eon- 
duct of a business affair may do for another." Teachers 
must, in all situations possible, endeavor to change the dull 
mechanics of class management to a system which makes each 
child an initiator, a thinker, a self-directing being loth to 
accept that kind of authority which stifles personality. 



SUGGESTED BEADING 

Angell. Psychology, Chaps. 11 and 12. 

Bagley. Educative Process, Chaps. 8, 19, 20 and 21. 

Dewey. How We Think. 

Earhart. Systematic Study in the Elementary Schools. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chaps. 13 and 14. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 22. 

McMurry. How to Study. 

Schaeffer. Thinking and Learning How to Think. Chaps. 1 and 8. 

Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Chaps. 14 and 15. 

Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 10. 



CHAPTER XXI 

FOEMAL DISCIPLINE: DOES SPECIAL TRAINING INFLUENCE 
GENERAL ABILITY? 

The Problem. — In the introduction to intellectual training 
it was noted that there are two general instructional aims, 
viz., (1) the utilitarian, the practical aim in teaching, which 
seeks to give the information necessary for complete life and 
better judgment, and (2) the disciplinary aim, which en- 
deavors to give such a training to the mind during the proc- 
ess of acquisition that it will develop in power as well as in 
knowledge. The disciplinary value of studies gives that 
mental fiber which ultimately enables the individual to gain 
knowledge and make for himself the necessary adjustments of 
future life. Disciplinary values sum up the permanent ef- 
fects upon mind and character. The importance of this dis- 
ciplinary phase of instruction is obvious even to the lay 
mind; the practical teacher, however, asks, "To what extent 
will the power gained in any one experience be utilized in 
other situations for other purposes?" 

The Doctrine Stated. — The doctrine of formal discipline 
offers an answer. It holds that mental strength developed 
in one set of experiences can be used in all other kinds of ex- 
periences; power developed in one subject is transferable 
to any other; reason gained in grammar and arithmetic is 
available in those later situations in life where reason is 
necessary; imagination developed in literature and in his- 
tory will serve in good stead in any situation where im- 
agination must be used. The formal disciplinists conceive 
the mind as a sort of reservoir. Whatever power results from 
the exercise gained in any subject flows into the mind as 

381 



382 E fined lion as Mat I <tl Adjustment 

so much force and is held there in reserve. This force is 
drained off when the occasion for its need arises. 

Origin of the Doctrine. — How did educators come to this 
conclusion? The doctrine is prompted by our conception of 
the mind's mode of action in an intellectual state. The an- 
swer has led to the formulation of two distinct schools of 
psychologists, the faculty psychologists as opposed to func- 
tional psychologists. Let us consider their rival positions. 

The faculty psychologists hold that the mind has separate 
capabilities for each of its varied activities. It has a faculty 
for reasoning, another for imagination, another for memory, 
etc. Train any one faculty in one experience and it becomes 
stronger for all purposes; develop the reasoning faculty in 
geometry and the power for reasoning is strengthened for 
all things in the same measure. 

The functional psychologists assert that the mind is one 
integrated unit and cannot be separated into component fac- 
ulties in any mental activity. In any experience the mind as 
a whole adjusts itself. What appear to be faculties are 
only modes of mental functioning. Any mental reaction 
that is manifested is not a reaction of a faculty but of the 
whole mind, of all its powers* and capabilities. Reason, imag- 
ination, perception — these are special forms in which the 
mind acts. But since experiences are not alike in kind, in 
intensity, or in nature, the adjustment in one phase of life 
will not help in another unless the two phases are similar. 
The mental adjustment required in reasoning out the intri- 
cacies of differential calculus wall not in any way insure bet- 
ter reasoning in m ' is of taxation, of diplomacy, or of law. 

Cooley suggests that a concrete illustration of the differ- 
ences between faculty and functional psychology is offered 
by the electric carriage-call device installed in all the leading 
theaters. Under the old system the sign contained all the 
numbers from to 9 inclusive. If 356 were w r anted the elec- 
trician lighted the 3, the 5, and the 6. The modern ma- 
chine has not ten separate numbers, but a single intricate 
design, which can make any combination, depending upon 



Formal Discipline 383 

which switch is set. According to the faculty psychologist 
the mind has separate independent powers, it is hence like 
the old machine ; according to the functional psychologist it 
is one involved machine and can give any combination de- 
sired. 

Prevalence of Formal Discipline in Educational Thought. — 
It is evident that the faculty conception of mental action ex- 
plains the origin of the doctrine of formal discipline. The 
popularity of this doctrine is manifested in its prevalence 
among eminent educators; the typical attitude toward for- 
mal discipline is reflected in the following citation from 
Woodrow Wilson. In answer to his own question, "Why go 
to College?" he says, "The mind takes fiber, facility, 
strength, adaptability, certainty of touch from handling 
mathematics, Latin, Greek, etc., etc. The college should give 
elasticity of faculty and breadth of vision, so that they (the 
students) should have a surplus of mind to expend." Here 
we have a clear statement of formal discipline drawing upon 
faculty psychology for its support. Thorndike, in his "Edu- 
cational Psychology," points out that President Wilson's 
conception of the mind is that of a machine, with its different 
faculties as different parts of the machine. Training is the 
lubricant which makes these parts work more efficiently in 
turning out its future products. "The mind is regarded as 
a storage battery which can be loaded with will power, judg- 
ment, or reasoning, and thus give the individual a surplus of 
mind to expend." 

Critical Examination of the Doctrine. — This doctrine of 
formal discipline leads logically to the conclusion that the 
school should so organize its curriculum that each faculty 
will have its training guaranteed by some subject. In this 
way a perfect mind can be developed, with capabilities for 
perception, judgment, and reason in all possible situations 
which may confront the individual. These formalists are not 
at all concerned with introducing into the school and its 
activities the situations of actual life. Why should they? 
Are they not developing all the mental powers of the 



384 Education as Mental Adjustment 

child? Will the pupil not be able to use them in any situ- 
ation ? 

The formal disciplinists often seek additional justification 
for their stand in physical analogies. They argue, "Exer- 
cise in the smith's shop, in the gymnasium, builds muscle and 
adds strength. Can I not use this strength in a new situa- 
tion? Can I not endure more strain, lift more, pull harder? 
The same law applies to the mind." A comparison of physi- 
cal and mental action reveals conditions so different that it 
is dangerous to argue that what will happen in the one case 
will hold true in the other. Besides, the analogy is false. 
Can the smith use his arms in rowing? "Will the strong farm 
youth make a better candidate for the crew than the average 
gymnast or athlete of less strength? Does not the smith tire 
more easily at the oar than the average student who exer- 
cises moderately? The good oarsman would not make a re- 
markable hod carrier; the strength of the pugilist would not 
help him lift a piano; the physical power of the safe mover 
does not make him the equal of the athlete in hammer 
throwing. The reason is obvious. In going through a particu- 
lar action all the muscles, nerves, and nerve centers co- 
ordinate in a definite way. The oftener the action is repeated 
the firmer is this coordination established. In trying a new 
adjustment the individual must go through a double proc- 
ess. He must first break up the old coordination and then 
establish a new one. Physical force developed in one activ- 
ity is not only no guarantee of success in other physical 
achievements, but may even be a decided hindrance. 

The very same observations and conclusions may be ap- 
plied to mental activity. Thought in one subject is not 
thought in another. The nerve and brain-cell action for 
one kind of reaction in one subject is not the nerve and 
brain-cell reaction in another. Hence the chemist and the 
physicist, keen observers in their respective experiments, 
will not show sharp and well-developed powers of observa- 
tion in finding a bird in a tree, nor in singling out a daisy 
in a field of clover. Why docs the ready reasoner in calculus, 



Formal Discipline 385 

or in applied mechanics often cut so pitiable a figure in rea- 
soning matters of a political nature? We are marvelously 
sharp in the dark nooks of one subject and yet blind as 
owls in the sunlight of another one. 

Experimental Evidence. — The limitations of the doctrine 
of formal discipline are reflected in the results of varied ex- 
perimentation. It was found that, after practice was given 
in judging the length of short lines and efficiency developed 
in discriminating short sizes, the same individuals showed 
their former bad judgment when long lines were used. Chil- 
dren whose teacher gave special attention to arrangement 
and to neatness of arithmetic papers produced better papers 
in this subject only; they showed a slight improvement in 
the written work of other subjects, but the progress in gen- 
eral neatness was not commensurate with that made in arith- 
metic papers; but, as far as personal appearance or tidiness 
of desk is concerned, they were absolutely uninfluenced. 
Children drilled in judging lengths accurately showed no 
improvement in judging weights. Although grammar and 
arithmetic both require reasoning in abstract relationship, 
nevertheless, monthly ratings given by teachers show that 
there is a number of children in every class who do excellent 
work in grammar, but who are almost helpless in arithmetic, 
and vice versa; that many who are exceptionally bright in 
number work are far below grade in grammar. It is the 
traditional boast of logic that it improves the mind's ability 
to reason. Students who have studied logic have yet to find 
how it has improved their reasoning power. It has helped 
them attack the formal side of a proposition, classify it, and 
subject it to a few mechanical laws ; but logic has never aided 
any one "to see straight into the heart of man or nature." 
Logic has never enriched content. No one employed the rules 
of logic more assiduously than the mediaeval scholars. Their 
whole philosophy is perfect logic, but its content is often 
stupid and meaningless. Logic was a hindrance rather than 
a help, for it kept them from studying nature and the laws 
and habits of life. Thus we see that formal discipline must 



3S6 Education as Mental Adjustment 

undergo marked modifications before it can be accepted as 
sound educational theory. 

Modern Conception of the Doctrine. — The modern state- 
ment of the doctrine which is accepted almost universally 
may be given in the words of Thorndike, "One function 
aids any other only in so far as the two functions have as 
factors identical elements." Home gives us an identical 
law, "The mental powers developed in any one subject 
are applicable to any other in direct proportion to their sim- 
ilarity." A pupil proficient in arithmetic will find algebra 
and geometry simple subjects; a student ranking high in 
German takes more readily to another foreign language, but 
not necessarily to science. A student showing ability in phys- 
ics will take to mechanics, chemistry, astronomy, but there 
is no guarantee that he can transfer his gift to the languages 
or to the social sciences of education, economics, or sociology. 
Efficiency gained in one branch of knowledge can be trans- 
ferred to another only when the two are similar; the greater 
the similarity, the easier is the transfer from the one to the 
other. 

This similarity among subjects which determines the abil- 
ity to use in one set of experiences the power gained in an- 
other can be traced along three lines: (1) The similarity 
may be one of subject-matter. The numerous illustrations 
that have been cited in the preceding topic are examples of 
approximating identity of subject-matter. 

(2) The similarity may be one of procedure. Chemistry 
differs much from physics and both differ from zoology, yet 
the student who has a training in the laboratory method fol- 
lowed in his studies in physics is belter equipped to pursue 
investigation in the biological or chemical laboratory. His- 
tory differs from geography, but the child who has been 
taught to study the textbook and the maps in the latter can 
study the former more readily because of the similarity of 
procedure. 

(3) Another similarity among subjects may be found in 
their aims. This similarity very often facilitates the trans- 



Formal Discipline 387 

fer to one subject of ability gained in the other. An illus- 
tration of similarity of aim is found in two subjects that 
appeal to the aesthetic sentiments. The child who likes to 
draw can be interested in the beauty of the flower, the bird, 
the butterfly. It does not follow that he will master the 
facts of natural history, but the aesthetic sense manifested in 
the drawing makes him eager for these subjects. Experi- 
mentation of the kind that was cited previously in this chap- 
ter shows that the aim, "neatness in written work," can be 
transferred readily, although the improvement in all written 
papers is not as great as in the one specially emphasized 
by the teacher. Children who are taught self-reliance and 
self-management in discipline are backward about asking 
their teachers for aid in other matters; they do not neces- 
sarily work their examples more speedily or accurately, but 
the desire to do the task alone and not call for assistance is 
prompted by the general aim, "self-reliance," implanted in 
other relations. 

When, therefore, there is a similarity of subject-matter, 
of mode of procedure, or of final aim of any two subjects, abil- 
ity developed in the one will be transferable to the other 
in direct proportion to their likeness. 

Conclusions for Education. — The doctrine of formal dis- 
cipline coming at the end of our study of the intellectual de- 
velopment has certain definite lessons for the teacher. To 
these we must now turn. 

1. Special Training, Instead of Aiding General Ability, 
May Injure It. — It was shown that proficiency developed by 
special training does not promote a general ability. Pro- 
longed study in any particular field causes the individual 
to fall into a rut. He becomes more accomplished in his spe- 
cialty, but narrower in his general outlook. Everything in 
his life is interpreted in terms of his specialty. To the 
mathematician life becomes a continuous ec-uation, to the 
scientist a subject for concrete analysis, to the philosopher a 
matter for infinite speculation. This leads to one-sidedness, 
which is little more thon a form of arrested development. 



388 Education as Mental Adjustment 

The proverbial absent-minded, thoroughly unworldly pro- 
fessor has not received an education which adjusts for com- 
plete living, and which finds joy in all of life's activities. 

2. An Ideal is Generalized. — We must, nevertheless, ad- 
mit that specialization in one field gives a mode of attack 
and approach in many of life's problems. The student who 
develops habits of close study in mathematics or languages 
finds it easier to concentrate on his economics even though he 
may not have an added ability for its comprehension. The 
logician who begins an argument makes sure that the terms 
are well denned ; the lawyer that the proposition has the ele- 
ments of constitutionality; the economist that the laws of 
production, distribution, etc., are not violated. Thus the per- 
son who has learned to observe in botany comes to chemistry 
with the feeling, "I must keep my eyes open if I want to 
learn." His observations in the new subject may be poor, his 
training in observing the flowers, the trees, the birds in nature 
may not stand him in good stead, but the attitude toward the 
work, the ideal, is generalized. So, too, in matters of disci- 
pline : obedience and proper conduct in the school will be no 
guarantee of similar behavior at home. If the discipline is 
based on reason, if it is seen in the light of a necessary social 
requirement, the child carries over the discipline of the school 
to the home, and vice versa. He sees that coming late to 
class means interference with everybody's work, coming late 
to table is bad conduct, for here, too, he disturbs the other 
members of his family. The ideal, "I must not disobey, I 
must be punctual," is easily transferred in the proper kind 
of discipline. But if the child obeys from a sense of blind 
duty or from fear of authority no such ideal can be gener- 
alized. This observation points to a very important conclu- 
sion for educational endeavor, viz., the ideal must always be 
made conscious, otherwise it cannot be generalized for every 
experience. While specific training, therefore, gained in 
one subject cannot be transferred to all other subjects, es- 
pecially those of a different nature, a certain attitude is ac- 
quired which can be applied in new eases. 



Formal Discipline 389 

The student may ask, at this point, "Why is an ideal 
generalized?" The answer we find in the following simple 
analysis : Since the brain, in its neurosis, and the mind, in 
its psychosis, act as a whole, certain adjustments that they 
make in any one subject may prove absolutely essential in 
a second subject, the nature and mental activity of which 
may, nevertheless, be different from the first. Thus, in arith- 
metic, we require concentration, will-power, close reasoning, 
curbing of the stream of consciousness. But to do effective 
work in grammar, different as this subject is, these same 
requisites must be assured, hence the student who can use 
these powers and has had them developed in arithmetic will 
very likely be able to give to grammar concentrated and con- 
tinued thought, an element which guarantees partial success 
in the new subject despite its dissimilarity. Hence, in this 
instance, the ideal, concentration, acquired in specific train- 
ing, has been generalized and is used in another connec- 
tion. It is safe to suppose that practical conditions in 
later life that need attention and close concentration for 
their solution will find the individual better fitted to adapt 
himself, because in his school training he has generalized 
the necessary ideal, the necessary attitude toward work, 
"concentration." This accounts for James' counsel al- 
ready quoted, "Do every day or two something, for no 
other reason than its difficulty, so that when the hour of 
dire need draws nigh, it may not find you unnerved and 
untrained." 

3. The School Curriculum Must Be Broad and Liberal. — 
Since the general conclusions are, first, that efficiency in one 
subject does not guarantee an equal efficiency in another 
demanding the same mental activity ; and, second, that such 
ability can be transferred only in proportion to the similari- 
ties of the subjects themselves, it follows that to reflect the 
much varied mental life necessary in the outside world the 
school must incorporate as many kinds of reasoning and imag- 
inative subjects as are necessary to reflect the needs of prac- 
tical life. The greater the variety of mental activity in the 



390 Education as Mental Adjustment 

curriculum, the closer do we approximate the variety of men- 
tal activity in the practical world. 

4. A Plea For the Utilitarian in Education. — A fourth 
conclusion which elaborates the preceding one makes it im- 
perative upon the curriculum to emphasize the utilitarian 
as well as the cultural aspects of the school subjects and 
thus reproduce conditions and reactions essential for adjust- 
ment in later life. Mental life in the formal school sub- 
jects is not the mental life usually demanded by the real 
world of practical problems. It is therefore obvious that 
science and nature study should have a fixed place in the 
curriculum. Manual training, with its shops in wood, iron, 
and metal work, should be embodied in 'the course of study 
without an apology. Less reasoning in the "hare-and-hound 
problems" of arithmetic and more in civics, politics, history, 
geography; less hair-splitting in technical grammar and 
more drill and practice in composition and in literary inter- 
pretation ; less aimless and abstract work in hypothetical 
examples in the physical sciences and more in the prac- 
tical application of these, and the actual study of ap- 
pliances in the environment would make education less 
formal but more useful, less disciplinary but none the less 
cultural. 

Education has been saturated too long with the erroneous 
principle that it must not defile itself with what is utilita- 
rian. The living present, the actual conditions in which the 
pupil lives, have therefore been neglected. The dead 
past and unapplied theoretical knowledge were made the 
subject of study for the living. Teachers and parents are 
beginning to grow sceptical about the far-reaching influences 
of the disciplinary values of the curriculum. There is a 
growing demand for subject-matter which lias much in com- 
mon with actual life. The school is a preparation for life. 
But there is only one way of preparing for life and that is 
by actually living it, The school must so organize its work 
and its managemenl that it requires each child to perform 
during the educational period those activities that will con- 



Formal Discipline 391 

front the pupil most often in later life. The school must 
always be a part of life, not apart from it. 



SUGGESTED READING 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 28. 

Hinsdale. Dogma of Formal Discipline, Educational Review, Vol. VIII. 
Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 6. 
Monroe. Text-Book in the History of Education, Chap. 9. 
O 'Shea. Education as Adjustment, Chaps. 4, 13 and 14. 
Thorndike. Principles of Teaching, Chap. 15. 
Educational Psychology, Chap. 8. 



C. THE EMOTIONAL ASPECT OP THE MIND 



26 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE EDUCATION OF THE EMOTIONS 

Place of the Emotions in Life. — The primary psychic 
manifestation is feeling. Animals low in the biological 
scale have a nervous system which makes "awareness" the 
sum total of consciousness. As we ascend the scale of ani- 
mal development we find feelings assuming an all-controlling 
influence in life through their pleasure-pain characteristics. 
Man himself finds that feeling centers are the first to func- 
tion in his life and the last to lose their grip on him. The 
primacy of feelings in psychic life cannot be disputed. They 
are never alone in consciousness, but always accompany every 
state of cognition and will, and thus give color and warmth 
to every phase of mentality. 

In maturer. life and in the educated mind the feelings 
continue their undisputed control of intellectual and voli- 
tional states. In the face of concrete proof, unanswerable 
experiment, convincing theory, we give free rein to feelings 
and execute the promptings of sentiment. They are the final 
springs to action, for, in moral conflict, they may outweigh 
all judgment and reason. Education of the past neglected 
their training, for it gave itself exclusively to developing 
intellect and making encyclopedic brains or thinking ma- 
chines. But the heart has its sacred place in education. 
Without emotional development life has only one flat color, 
one drab tone, and is lived on one flat plane, free from the 
exhilaration of heights and the sorrow of depths. Educa- 
tion must concern itself with emotional unfoldment, for the 
child's feelings are crude in the extreme; they are selfish 
and always self -centered. They are usually as violent and 

395 



396 Education as Mental Adjustment 

passionate as they are coarse. The need for emotional re- 
finement is evident; education must set itself consciously to 
the problem of developing "the mind's capacity to feel," of 
making the child appreciative of the finer appeals in life, 
and sensitive to the subtler influence of the environment. 
Without emotional refinement, religious appeals, ethical im- 
pulses, and the message of art fail to thrill and ennoble. Our 
feelings are therefore primary in mental life, all-controlling 
in human endeavor, give color to our mental vision, and 
wings to the spirit, so that we may revel in realms far above 
the commonplace and the sordid. 

Definition. — The feelings may therefore be defined as 
the tone of pleasure or displeasure that accompanies every 
intellectual or volitional state. Every state of consciousness 
has, therefore, an affective side which varies from utmost 
agreeableness through indifference to decided disagreeable- 
ness. From this formal definition the student might deduce 
that emotions and instincts are identical. While it is true 
that instinctive responses and emotional expressions shade 
imperceptibly into each other, and that every object that 
arouses an instinct also excites a feeling, it does not neces- 
sarily follow that all feelings or emotions are instincts. The 
two must be kept apart ; while feelings and emotions are 
tones of experience, an instinct is a tendency to action, an 
inherited nervous coordination resulting in automatic ac- 
tion. Every emotional state terminates in the individual 
himself, but instincts enter into "practical relationships with 
the exciting object." 

Classification of Feelings. — Since feelings give tone to 
consciousness, it follows, a priori, that this tone may vary 
in intensity, duration, and character. We must differentiate, 
therefore, four classes of feelings: (1) the feelings which, as 
defined, are the affective element of sensations and percep- 
tions; (2) the emotions, the strong and intense feelings ac- 
companying experience; (3) the sentiments, the refined emo- 
tions which have acquired a lasting association with specific 
objects or ideas; (4) the volitions, those feelings that end 



The Education of the Emotions 397 

in a decision or in an expression of that decision. These 
four forms of feeling form a progressive series, agreeing 
in their essential nature and character, but differing only in 
degree; they are alike qualitatively, but differ quantitatively. 
For this classification we are indebted to Yerkes. The fur- 
ther grouping of each of these forms of feelings we shall out- 
line in considering each separately. 

I. The Feelings. — No definition of feelings has attained 
universal acceptance among psychologists because of their 
vague and often indefinite nature. They are so variable in 
content that they seem almost illusive as we attempt to sys- 
tematize them. The same object may arouse an agreeable 
tone in one mind and decided antipathy in another. Feelings 
reflect the most subjective aspect of consciousness. Thought 
and action can be communicated with comparative ease, but 
only the artistically gifted can stimulate in others the feel- 
ings surging in their minds. So individualistic are feelings 
that each person has his own feeling tone. At each moment 
every individual is assailed by a number of sounds, sights, 
pressure, and temperature stimulations, visceral and organic 
disturbances, images flitting through the mind, etc. Each of 
these stimulations has its own coefficient of feeling. When 
they are summed up they determine the prevailing mood, the 
personal index of feeling which not only gives the distinctive 
color of each life, but, in the last analysis, determines dis- 
position. 

The most differentiating characteristic of feeling is its 
intimate connection with sense perception. The layman often 
betrays his confusion of sensation and feeling when he says, 
"The stone feels cold," "the silk feels smooth," etc. It is 
this intimate association between sense fact and feeling 
tone that led psychologists to term feelings the affective 
aspect of consciousness. 

The wide range of feelings is made clear when we note 
how differently a series of experiences affects the same per- 
son. What a range of feelings is aroused in watching a ball 
game, in suffering bodily pain, in taking an important exam- 



398 Education as Menial Adjustment 

ination, in the loss of a friend! Nevertheless, all these feel- 
ings can be reduced to a threefold effect, viz., (a) pleasant 
vs. unpleasant, (b) exciting vs. depressing, (e) straining vs. 
relaxing. Psychologists have succeeded in obtaining a fairly 
accurate measure of the value of a feeling by studying its 
physiological effect upon heart, respiration, muscular ten- 
sion, etc. Wundt, who gave us this tridimensional theory of 
feelings, sums up the physiological coefficient of feelings in 
the following table: ' 

Pleasant feelings: pulse retarded and intensified. 

Unpleasant feelings: pulse accelerated and weakened. 

Exciting feelings: pulse strengthened. 

Depressing feelings: pulse weakened. 

Tension feelings: pulse retarded and weakened. 

Relief feelings: pulse accelerated -and intensified. 

Aside from reflecting the intimacy between psychic and phys- 
iological life, this theory gives us useful data for a better 
comprehension of the cause of emotions to which we shall 
presently turn. 

II. The Emotions. 

Their Psychological Characteristics. — An emotion is a 
state of feeling of high degree of tension accompanied by 
complex physical and physiological reactions to some stim- 
ulus. The table of feelings given above shows that the dis- 
tinction between emotion and feeling is an arbitrary one of 
degree. The report of a tragedy at sea makes us feel sad ; but 
on reading the details we discover, much to our surprise, that 
a dear friend has been lost. The feeling of sadness now gives 
way to an emotion of deep-seated grief; the heart action 
changes, a lump rises in the throat, a choking sensation is ex- 
perienced and the eyes are moist as intense sorrow grips us. 

Emotions are therefore opposed to sensations and per- 
ceptions, for they refer not to the outer world but to a con- 
dition of mind. We do not hold them in captivity to be used 
at will for intellectual ends. They are so thoroughly sub- 



The Education of the Emotions 399 

jective, involuntary, and intense that they master the indi- 
vidual completely. They vary markedly, therefore, in each 
individual. Nevertheless, they are contagious and beget their 
like in others. A cheerful person brings sunshine into a 
room filled with people in a negative mood; the smile is like 
the pebble thrown into the smooth lake, for it starts ever- 
widening circles of good cheer. The trite pedagogical adage 
which is based on this "contagion of emotions" is, "emotions 
must be caught, not taught." 

Another characteristic of emotions is that they are usu- 
ally directed toward some definite end. There is a specific 
thing we fear, a definite person we love or hate; our sym- 
pathy goes out to a particular individual or situation. De- 
spite this characteristic, emotions are less coherent and do not, 
like other mental phases, form associations one with the other. 
In cognitive experience, percepts are grouped with their like 
into proper concepts, individual facts are united by a gener- 
alization ; emotions, on the contrary, are not so organized, but 
remain, rather, isolated forms of psychosis. 

When uppermost in the mind emotion reigns supremo. 
Every other mental phase becomes subordinate to it, all vo- 
litional life is colored and controlled by it. If one is in anger 
every act of those about him provokes resentment, for he 
sees attempted insult and injury. A team that feels dis- 
couraged at the beginning of the game has already lost; con- 
fidence and courage screwed to the sticking point are half 
the victory. So controlling are emotions that habitual ten- 
dencies in human conduct are determined by the promptings 
of some dominant feeling or sentiment. 

Although they control action, emotions that are very in- 
tense often interfere with action. A person may be speech- 
less with chagrin, paralyzed with fear, or motionless with 
surprise. All emotions prompt action, but the intensity of 
the emotion must wear itself off before the actions prompted 
by fear, chagrin, surprise, can be carried out to the best ad- 
vantage. Another contradictory character of many emotions 
is their tendency to become blunt through repetition. The 



400 Education as Mental Adjustment 

apparent unconcern of the surgeon, the seeming indifference 
of the charity investigator, and the calm of the minister listen- 
ing to a sorrow-stricken member of his flock, are evidences of 
the dulling effect of repetition on many of the finer emotions. 
The ability of these people to control emotional promptings 
and to estimate a situation intellectually is not only desir- 
able, but even a manifestation of strength. With weak people 
the repetition of such emotions as fear or hate tpnds to pro- 
duce a sensitivity which threatens nervous stability. 

The characteristics of emotions reveal their contrary na- 
tures and foreshadow the difficulty of the task of educating 
them. Not only do emotions vary with every individual, 
but they vary in the same individual under different condi- 
tions. Their intense subjective nature makes impossible the 
elaboration of any scheme for the education of the emotions 
which is capable of class application. The task of refining 
the emotions is a delicate and a personal one, and not con- 
ducive to the best results when applied to mass teaching. 

Origin of Emotions. — Psychologists have long been di- 
vided on the question of the origin of emotions. Before 
tracing their genesis let us turn to a description of a typical 
emotion, fear, as given by Darwin in his "Expression of the 
Emotions in Man and Animals": 

"The frightened man at first stands like a statue, motion- 
less and breathless, or crouches down as if instinctively to 
escape observation. The heart beats quickly and violently, 
so that it palpitates or knocks against the ribs; but it is very 
doubtful whether it then works more efficiently than usual, 
so as to send a greater supply of blood to all parts of the 
body; for the skin instantly becomes pale, as during incip- 
ient faintness. This paleness of flic surface, however, is prob- 
ably, in large part, or exclusively, due to the vaso-motor cen- 
ter being affected in such a manner as to cause the contrac- 
tion of the small arteries of the skin. That the skin is much 
affected under the sense of greal fear we see In the marvelous 
and inexplicable manner in which perspiration immediately 
exudes from it. This exudation is all the more remarkable 



The Education of the Emotions 401 

as the surface is then cold, and hence the term a cold sweat ; 
whereas, the sudorific glands are properly excited into ac- 
tion when the surface is heated. The hairs, also, on the skin 
stand erect; and the superficial muscles shiver. In connec- 
tion with the disturbed action of the heart, the breathing is 
hurried. The salivary glands act imperfectly ; the mouth 
becomes dry, and is often opened and shut. I have also no- 
ticed that, under slight fear, there is a strong tendency to 
yawn. One of the best-marked symptoms is the trembling of 
all the muscles of the body ; and this is often first seen in the 
lips. From this cause, and from the dryness of the mouth, 
the voice becomes husky or indistinct, or may altogether fail. 

"As fear increases into an agony of terror, we behold, 
as under all violent emotions, diversified results. The heart 
beats wildly, or may fail to act and faintness ensue; there 
is a deathlike pallor; the breathing is labored; the wings of 
the nostrils are widely dilated ; there is a gasping and convul- 
sive motion of the lips, a tremor on the hollow cheek, a gulp- 
ing and catching in the throat ; the uncovered and protruding 
eyeballs are fixed on the object of terror; or they roll rest- 
lessly from side to side. . . . The pupils are said to be 
enormously dilated. All the muscles of the body may become 
rigid, or may be thrown into convulsive movements. The 
hands are alternately clenched and opened, often with a 
twitching movement. The arms may be protruded, as if to 
avert some dreadful danger, or may be thrown wildly over 
the head. ... In other cases there is a sudden and un- 
controllable tendency to headlong flight; and so strong is this 
that the boldest soldiers may be seized with a sudden panic. 

"As fear arises to an extreme pitch the dreadful scream 
of terror is heard. Great beads of sweat stand on the skin. 
All the muscles of the body are relaxed. Utter prostration 
soon follows, and the mental powers fail." 

Steps in the Progress of an Emotion. — What are the con- 
ditions that give rise to an emotion 1 ? In the main these are 
three: (a) Emotions arise in a crisis in experience, when 
the train of ideas is suddenly interrupted by a strong feel- 



402 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ing; (b) this intense feeling soon brings the individual to 
a realization of a real situation in life, a condition necessi- 
tating a readjustment in experience; (c) the original feeling 
is now enriched by organic sensations set up in the course 
of bodily adjustment to the situation. These steps outlined 
by Titchener find their illustration in any practical expe- 
rience. A person sits at his desk busily engaged in his task. 
No particular emotion actuates him e'xeept the feeling of sat- 
isfaction which he finds in his work. Suddenly a piercing 
shriek is heard and the cry of "Fire" comes from the floor 
below, lie jumps up at this interruption. The word "Fire," 
the shriek, the tones, the suddenness of it all call up visions 
of persons in distress, danger, need of help. As this vivid 
imagery fills the mind, the heart action is at once affected and 
one or another of the physical and physiological changes 
noted in the illustrations make themselves manifest. After 
this initial expression of the emotion the individual makes 
the first move to render aid and secure his safety. The emo- 
tional stale usually persists as long as the need for adjust- 
ment persists. Fear of the dark is hence short-lived, while 
grief over a death leaves its mark for a considerable period. 

Emotion and Physical Expression. — From the definitions 
and illustrations it is apparent that the physiological changes 
in a state of nervous tension are as much part of the emo- 
tion as the psychic condition itself, lie who does not feel 
a changed heart action, cold sweat, rising hair, creeping skin 
is really not in the throes of fear. He who has not the tear- 
wet eyes, he who does not feel the lump in his throat, the 
visceral change, the heavy heart, an aversion for food is not 
experiencing the miseries of sorrow. The professional charity 
worker who listens to a heart-rending story and says, "I am 
extremely sorry," without feeling the bodily affections ac- 
companying the emotion, means. "I can understand how one 
in your position would be miserable." His state of mind is 
intellectual rather than emotional, for "a disembodied human 
emotion is a sheer nonentity." 

The "Darwinian Theory of Emotions" holds that every 



The Education of the Emotions 403 

idea brings its own emotional accompaniments which are so 
intense that they work themselves out through the body. By 
way of illustration, we may offer the following: (1) One 
sees a train approaching — the idea; (2) he fears — the emo- 
tion; (3) the face pales, the heart action is changed, etc. — all 
the bodily changes characteristic of the emotion appear. (1) 
A beautiful canvas is seen — the idea; (2) the person is 
pleased — the emotion; (3) the face is brightened, the whole 
body experiences a relaxation. 

William James and Karl Lange are sponsors of an entirely 
opposite theory. Upon first glance it seems almost contrary 
to experience. "My theory, on the contrary," says James, 
"is that bodily changes follow directly the perception of 
the exciting facts and that our feelings of the changes as they 
occur are the emotions." Modifying the previous illustra- 
tions we find the sequence to be: (1) One sees the train 
rounding the curve at a dangerous proximity — the idea; (2) 
the bodily indices of fear are manifest; (3) the person feels 
these bodily changes and is seized with fear — the emotion. (1) 
A splendid painting is seen — the idea; (2) the face bright- 
ens and the body relaxes; (3) as these changes are felt in- 
tense pleasure is experienced — the emotion. 

An analysis of the common emotional experiences brings 
conviction of this theory of James and Lange. When the 
darkness fills one with fear comfort is found in assuming a 
manly physical posture and whistling an enlivening tune. 
The lad worsted in a fistic encounter forces himself into 
laughter and by checking his tears maintains his courage 
in the company of his playmates. "Count ten before vent- 
ing your anger and its occasion seems ridiculous ... sit 
all day in a moping posture, sigh, and reply to everything in 
a dismal voice, and your melancholy lingers. " . . . If , in 
moments of deep sorrow, you ' ' smooth the brow, brighten the 
eye, contract the dorsal rather than the ventral aspect of the 
frame, and speak in a major key, pass the genial compliment 
and your heart must be frigid indeed if it do not gradually 
thaw." 



404 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Objection may be made that the deliberate arousal of the 
physical manifestations of an emotion does not always arouse 
the emotion itself, for one may pretend to cry without feel- 
ing dejected or feign laughter without experiencing the ex- 
hilaration of joy. In such cases we must realize that the 
most vital manifestations of these emotions, the visceral dis- 
turbance, the modified heart beats, the changed respiration, 
are not aroused. Even in the apparent arousal of the physi- 
cal accompaniments of the emotions cited in the objection, the 
natural tendency is to induce sorrow or joy. Leading actors 
give evidence that they grow pale in fright, shudder in fear, 
and have moist eyes in sorrow. Experience teaches that the 
noise of panic increases panic in the hearts of the panic- 
stricken; each expression of anger finds the individual's 
anger heightened until he almost reaches a frenzy ; each suc- 
ceeding sob seems to rend the heart more violently until ex- 
haustion weakens the pangs of sorrow. Emotions are physi- 
cally fatiguing. The expression of an emotion usually ex- 
hausts that emotion, because the nervous vitality is drained, 
and the calm after the storm must follow. At times it is 
found that if the object causing the emotion is kept in mind 
and the tendency toward expression is repressed, the vitality 
generated flows out through other channels. Constant brood- 
ing brings its fits of melancholy and utter desperation ; in- 
tense feeling successfully restrained may finally explode in 
uncontrollable hysteria. It must be remembered that all 
people do not react in similar ways. To some people joy 
brings tears, and sorrow produces hysterical laughter. 

Exceptions to the James-Lange theory have been pointed 
out; experiments on "the iniluence of images on the secretion 
of the digestive fluids" point to limitations in this view; these 
have led many psychologists to question the universality of 
this law, and to revert to the older theory of Darwin that 
the idea prompts the emotion which in turn produces the 
physical expression. Others have evolved an explanation 
midway between these extremes, viz., the idea calls up the 
emotion, which expresses itself in physiological changes; hut 



The Education of the Emotions 405 

these movements serve only to intensify the emotion. "The 
boy sees the bear, becomes frightened, begins to run, and 
then becomes more frightened." 

Application of the Theory of Emotwns to Teaching. — For 
purposes of educational application it makes little difference 
whether we believe in either extreme or in the compromise 
theory. Every phase of this psychological question teaches 
the same lesson to the practical teacher, to wit, apart from 
the bodily reactions and physiological expression that attend 
an emotion, the experience itself is insignificant. To arouse 
an emotion in pupils it is necessary to have them assume the 
physical posture and reproduce the bodily actions which ac- 
company the particular emotions. This is the psychological 
justification for dramatization of literature and history as 
treated in detail in the chapter on "Imagination." As fur- 
ther illustration we may offer the opening scene of "Julius 
Cassar. ' ' 

ACT I— SCENE I 
ROME. A STREET 

Enter Flavius and Marcellus, officers, and certain commoners. 

Flavius. Hence ! Home, you idle creatures, get you home. 

Is this a holiday? What! know you not, 
Being mechanical, you ought not walk 
Upon a laboring day without the sign 
Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? 

First Com. Why, sir, a carpenter. 

Marcellus. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? 
What dost thou with thy best apparel on? 
You, sir, what trade art thou? 

Second Com. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, 
As you would say, a cobbler, etc. 

Children called upon to read this selection usually render 
it all in the same tone. They do not differentiate the loud 
and authoritative questions of the officers from the meek, 
gentle, and submissive answers of the commoners. In- 
stead of explaining the position of the officers in Rome, their 
authority, and the undignified position of a commoner as a 



406 Education as Mental Adjustment 

reason for a changed reading, let the child assume the physi- 
cal posture of an officer in the Roman army. At once his 
voice is raised, his speech is haughty and domineering. In 
reading the reply of the second Commoner the child assumes 
the stoop of the old cobbler and automatically his voice is 
lowered and a tone of subservience and respect is heard. An 
application of this principle of emotions to literature lessons 
would produce spontaneous expressive and intelligent oral 
reading. 

Origin of Physical Expressions of Emotions. — Biology ex- 
plains these bodily movements in emotional states as relics of 
actions useful in ancestral life, and holds that they are weak 
revivals of those activities that meant survival in life's strug- 
gles. In astonishment there is a raising of the eyebrows 
and an opening of the eyes to give the best possible visual im- 
pression of the impending danger that is responsible for the 
surprise. The mouth is open because ancestral man had to 
take a full breath prior to the attack on the surprising ob- 
ject. The snarl and the sneer accompany displeasure because 
"early man had large canines which he unfleshed." In 
anger the nostrils are distended and the teeth gritted; if the 
exhaustion which followed the struggle necessitated more 
forceful breathing, "why was the mouth not opened?" 
Spencer asks. He answers his inquiry by explaining, because 
"the combatant's mouth was filled with part of his antag- 
onist's body." These specific explanations may be far-fetched 
and even erroneous, but the theory in general, viz., that bod- 
ily movements accompanying an emotion are the life-saving 
actions of ancestral life is in harmony with progressive biol- 
ogy and the theory of instincts. 

Gradations of Emotions. — Emotions vary in intensity 
from a mere excitation to an all-consuming passion; they 
vary also in duration from a transitory state to a mood, a per- 
sistent emotional tone that determines the color of experience 
which occurs during its reign. An emotion of fright grows 
into a passion of horror and dread, and then, as the nervous 
system is shattered by a succession of these excitations, pales 



The Education of the Emotions 407 

into a general mood of suspicious fear. The spectrum of 
emotional colors is rich and variegated; its dominant color 
determines temperament, which is a reflection of the average 
mood of the individual. Psychology usually groups man into 
four classes according to temperament: (a) the choleric — 
strong in feeling, quick in thinking and acting; (b) san- 
guine — weak in feeling, quick in thinking and acting; (c) 
melancholic — strong in feeling, slow in thinking and acting; 
(d) phlegmatic — weak in feeling, slow in thinking and act- 
ing. The teacher who knows the pupils temperamentally has 
information useful in disciplining and teaching them, for 
she knows the nature of the appeal that can be made and 
the response that is to be expected. 

III. The Sentiments. — Whenever an emotion becomes per- 
manently associated with a particular object or idea it is 
known as a sentiment. Suffering, misery, extreme poverty al- 
ways arouse the same affective state, which is known as the 
sentiment of pity. The sight of those near and dear to one 
stir the sentiment of love. Patriotism, sympathy, faith, pride, 
aesthetic appreciation, religious inspiration are additional 
sentiments that control in human conduct because of the per- 
manence of the associations between feeling and idea. Sen- 
timents can readily be summed up under four heads: (a) 
intellectual sentiments arising when the mind is busied with 
questions of accuracy and interpretation, as in wonder, sur- 
prise, curiosity; (b) ethical sentiments prompting the cham- 
pioning of the right and arising in social relations; (c) re- 
ligious sentiments having their origin in recognition of divine 
power and sanctity; (d) esthetic sentiments filling the mind 
in the contemplation of the beautiful and the sublime. These 
sentiments constitute the most desirable phase of human emo- 
tions. 

IV. The Volitions. — Every active and convincing judg- 
ment brings with it a craving for a decisive end, a prompt- 
ing to attain the end thought useful and proper. This emo- 
tional state involved in all effective judgments and urgent 
decision is known as Volition. As they are the springs of 



408 Education as Mental Adjustment 

rational conduct we shall revert to them again in the study 
of the will. They are introduced here to serve as a transition 
to the final phase of mind, the volitional aspect of mental 
life, and to reemphasize the unity of consciousness which is 
always outraged in the inevitable classification and subdivi- 
sion in a formal treatise. 

Education of Emotions 

The Topic Outlined.— Emotions that are refined and con- 
trolled are an evidence of a high order of mental devel- 
opment. The problem of their education looms up, there- 
fore, important and colossal. Since the feelings are so varied 
in their nature and character we cannot consider them in 
toto, but must rather seek to outline suggestions for their 
education according to their classification. We shall, there- 
fore, consider the education of I. The Egoistic Emotions, II. 
The ^Esthetic Sentiments, III. The Social and Ethical Senti- 
ments. 

I. The Education of the Egoistic Emotions. — The undesir- 
able emotional states can be controlled and refined by methods 
very analogous to those suggested for the educational control 
of instincts. We need, therefore, only repeat the methods and 
suggest the applications. Egoistic emotions can be controlled 
by three practices: 

(a) By Guarding against Conditions that Provoke Them. 
■ — The most obvious means of promoting control is to weaken 
undesirable emotions by infrequency of expression. . The 
child who is irritable should not be allowed to play with a 
friend given to teasing or crossing others; the nervous child 
must be spared all conditions that tend to frighten ; the selfish 
child must not be given all the pleasures he seeks nor be 
permitted to gratify his every desire. This mode of control 
is equivalent to repression, and has therefore all the limita- 
tions inherent in such a method. It does not follow that, 
merely because an emotion is not expressed, it is obliterated. 
It is only dimmed and may therefore assert itself with sur- 



The Education of the Emotions 409 

prising vigor. Repression is very often impossible ; it is 
dangerous to attempt to repress anger that is at white heat. 
As a method of guarding against violent paroxysms of fear, 
terror, and anger, this method of disuse is commendable. 
Parents who frighten children into obedience through stories 
of dread and fear are guilty of stupidity bordering on bar- 
barism. This seems to be the limit of the efficiency of repres- 
sion and disuse, for, under many conditions, expression is 
far more desirable. It is always better to let the child finish 
his sobbing or giggling, for the emotion is spent in the ex- 
pression and intensified in the repression. That emotional 
training is the best educationally which develops self-control 
of one's emotions. Repression, since it necessitates direction 
and intervention from without, stands low in the educational 
scale. 

(b) By Punishment. — This method is usually not effica- 
cious unless the punishment follows as a natural consequence 
of the offense. In such cases the child associates permanently 
the expression of the emotion and the loss that it entailed. 
When anger prompts the harsh word, the memory of a dear 
friend who was alienated may serve as a means of checking 
the passion. In a preceding connection it was seen that the 
limitations of this form of punishment by natural conse- 
quences are too numerous to make possible an extended appli- 
cation of its theory. 

(c) By Guidance and Direction. — The most educational 
method of controlling the coarser emotions is the direct op- 
posite, of repression. The impulse back of an egoistic emo- 
tion is not necessarily bad; its goal is usually undesirable. 
Hence any method that hopes to attain success in dealing 
with these egoistic emotions seeks to direct the force they 
generate to ends that are worthy. Adam Smith emphasizes 
the true method of education when he says, ' ' The great secret 
of education is to direct vanity to proper objects." The 
child who is vain about his school rather than himself or who 
gives way to anger at an injustice perpetrated upon a weak 
member of the class is utilizing an emotion ordinarily deemed 



410 Education as Mental Adjustment 

undesirable toward most desirable ends. For the proper 
guidance of these individualistic emotions a few suggestions 
are offered to parents as well as to teachers. 

Suggestions For Proper Guidance. — (i) Emotions ac- 
company thoughts. To weaken undesirable emotions in an 
individual, a new thought basis must be supplied. Parents 
must seek to develop in the child new interests, through read- 
ing, athletics, studies, friendships, visits to places of interest ; 
as new ideas assume control of the mind new emotions reign, 
for the new thoughts bring their own accompaniments. 

(ii) "Assume a virtue if you have it not," is a second 
suggestion that may be of aid in guiding emotions to useful 
ends. Let a child pretend kindness and he soon develops a 
more charitable attitude. The sympathy that one shows may 
be pretended at first, but it soon softens the heart and a 
kinder spirit is developed. He who gives, though unwillingly 
at first, becomes generous even as a result of his forced char- 
ity. The child must be encouraged to take on the actions of 
the emotions we wish to arouse in him. 

"Supply a new action," James tells us, "and the emotion 
dies." He counsels counting ten before giving vent to anger; 
changing the posture from a moping to an erect one, "pass- 
ing the genial compliment" for banishment of melancholy. 
The advice is useful and sound, but not easy of class-room 
application in our system of mass teaching and mass disci- 
plining. How can the teacher direct a pupil to change his 
actions, which are emotional accompaniments, if the pupil is 
at the height of the emotion ? Parents can do much by wait- 
ing for the calmer hours; they can explain the dangers and 
the undesirability of the emotions and advise simple means 
of dispelling an emotion like anger. The child must apply 
the treatment himself if a change is to be achieved. At first 
the results are discouraging, as any parent can attest. But 
repeated counsels, repeated efforts, constant watching, and 
patient cooperation on the part of parents will lead to a 
gratifying change. 

(iii) Never take an emotion at the flood. Emotions that 



The Education of the Emotions 411 

are sharp and intense are usually short-lived; expression of 
these emotions brings relief. When an emotion is at its 
height it is better to wait until it has expended itself than to 
attempt to thwart it. Any other practice serves only to in- 
tensify the feeling. Teachers have learned through bitter 
experience not to order a child in a fit of anger, or command 
action when stubbornness almost paralyzes the muscles. 
When the passion subsides the child carries out the action 
and meekly takes the punishment administered. ■'""People who 
are given to sharp emotions, but who express them, are safer 
by far than those who harbor an ill will which grows in bit- 
terness with successive reflections"T7The former are usually 
open in their action and ready to forget. The latter gen- 
erally perpetrate a well-planned injury. 

(iv) To wound a feeling too often is to deaden it. The 
teacher who is constantly ridiculing the same lad, forever 
publicly censuring the same culprit so deadens the child's 
sensibilities that the sense of shame loses its sting and dis- 
grace its dread. Self-respect is now undermined and the 
individual is in a precarious emotional condition, for he is 
no longer sensitive to the loss of the respect of others ; the all- 
controlling motive in the conduct of weak individualities — 
"the good opinion of one's fellow-beings" — is dead. Shame 
and self-respect are two potent deterring agents in human 
conduct. 

In dealing with the coarse, egoistical emotions teachers 
and parents must not expect instantaneous relief or complete 
revolutions in the nature of the child. Progress in emo- 
tional refinement is slow and discouraging; repeated efforts, 
unrelenting care, and maturing years, with their moral awak- 
ening, are the main factors in emotional development. 

II. Education of the iEsthetic Emotions. — The study of 
the social content of the curriculum revealed the impor- 
tance of the aesthetic function of education which seeks to 
develop a sense of the beautiful and a consciousness of the 
sublime. The aesthetic craving opens the eyes to the harmony 
of nature and of man, makes the ear sensitive to the beau- 



4 1 12 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ties of sound, inspires the soul with the message of art, finds 
rest in green fields, contentment in the mirror-surface of the 
lake, exultation in the mountains and towering peaks. Life 
is not life that is lived without the thrill of aesthetic emo- 
tions. Although the task of educating the aesthetic emotions 
looms up gigantic on the horizon, the teacher need feel no 
discouragement, because this problem reflects the inspira- 
tional side of her work, the inculcating and nurturing of 
ideals, which blossom only after long and arduous cultivation. 

.-Esthetic sentiments are not peculiar to civilized life. 
The barbarian, the bloodthirsty cannibal, the roving nomads 
gave evidence of an inherent craving for the beautiful in 
the adornment of their persons, the decoration of their gods, 
and the designs on their wearing apparel and household 
utensils. They had a sense of rhythm which prompted their 
dance and music. Civilization is not the creator of the sense of 
beauty ; it brings refining modifications and more intense ap- 
preciation of aesthetic life, so that the art impulse becomes a 
force that is both ethical and social in its import. The mind 's 
content always craves expression of its most intense ideas and 
sentiments. The aesthetic sentiment felt by the artist must be 
communicated to his f ellowmen ; a bond of sympathy is at 
once formed between man and man. The longing for a sym- 
pathetic chord in another, together with the passion for self- 
expression, is the origin and the cause of the best art forms. 
It was this craving for a sympathetic listener that led the 
savage to dance and sing, to scratch his ideas on stone, to 
adorn his person, or his clothes, to imitate whatever stirred his 
soul in nature. The art sentiment springs eternal in the 
human breast. 

The aesthetic nature has too long remained in the penum- 
bra of educational endeavor. Education that neglects it is 
neither modern nor liberal. We must suggest, therefore, aids 
which are within the scope of education for the development 
of aesthetic emotions. 

Agents in Esthetic Education: (a) The Teacher.— The 
nature of emotions taught us that emotions arc contagious, 



The Education of the Emotions 413 

that enthusiasm must be caught not taught, and that inspira- 
tion begets inspiration. The teacher becomes, therefore, the 
most potent factor in the aesthetic development of the child. 
If he is alive to life's finer aspects, to its varied hues and 
beauties, his pupils will feel these joys. The teacher who is 
deaf to music, blind to color, indifferent to the beauties of 
the environment, unsympathetic to the birds, the bees, and 
the flowers of nature study, deadens every spark of enthu- 
siasm and kills every fine sentiment lurking in the children's 
bosoms. 

(b) The Curriculum. — Emotions are the ever-present ac- 
companiments of ideas. Direct emotional training is there- 
fore impossible. The indirect mode of educating emotions is 
to stimulate in the mind those ideas that give rise to the 
emotions to be aroused. The curriculum, therefore, becomes 
a very important agent in the emotional life of the child. 
Through literature, nature study, drawing and design, pic- 
ture study, and music, the elementary school curriculum 
makes its contribution to the aesthetic development of the 
child. Literature that subordinates form to content, appre- 
ciation and inspiration; nature study that brings the child 
into direct contact with the plant and animal life through 
the school garden, the city parks, the botanical and the zo- 
ological gardens ; drawing that is taught for expressional pur- 
poses rather than for a mastery of technical laws and prin- 
ciples; music that minimizes the science of music but empha- 
sizes the song and seeks to give (through the phonograph, 
if necessary) an acquaintance with the best that the masters 
of harmony have produced — all these are vital and success- 
ful means of refining the emotions of the child and reveal- 
ing the grandeur and the sublimity of the aesthetic in life. 

(c) The Environment. — The human mind mirrors within 
the splendor and beauty of the world without. It becomes 
important, therefore, that we surround the child with what 
is attractive and tasteful. The school must be a model of 
architecture as well as of sanitation. Every class room must 
be beautifully and appropriately decorated. The pictures 



414 Edited I im/ as Mental Adjustment 

on the walls, the plants on sills and Ledges, and the aquarium 
give evidence by their presence of an attempt on the part of 
the teacher to produce for the child an aesthetic environment. 
The results of such endeavors are intangible but positive. 
The beauty of such surroundings sinks deep and makes its 
permanent impression upon the impressionistic mind of the 
child. He who has seen children of the miserable tenements 
of our great cities nail pictures on the walls of their homes 
and coax stubborn little plants to grow on the window ledges 
facing dark and foul-smelling airshafts has obtained incon- 
testable proof of the far-reaching inspiration of the prop- 
erly decorated class room. Parents who are their children's 
companions must open the windows of the growing souls to 
the grandeur of the natural environment. They must teach 
them to look up to the stars, to seek the thrill of a glorious 
sunrise or sunset, to find joy in green fields and wooded hills. 
Only a cue is needed to stir the dormant aesthetic cravings 
in the bosom. John Ruskin, when a mere child, was taken 
by his parents on all their trips through the British Isles. 
When the party arrived at a beautiful scene they always 
pointed it out to the lad. Ruskin adds, "These scenes which 
I would not have noted myself revealed to me their beauty 
and inspiration." Browning's Fra Lippo Lippi tells us, 

"For don't you mark? we're made so that we love 
First when we sec the painted things we have passed 
Perhaps a hundred times, nor cared to see; . . ." 

Parents who imitate the practice of the elder Ruskins must 
be sure of the sincerity of the responses which they evoke in 
their children. Too early an indulgence in aesthetic education 
maj' produce the affected sentimentalist rather than the 
true beauty lover. 

III. Education of the Social and Ethical Sentiments. — 
Closely allied to the aesthetic sentiments there is another 
group nl' liner feelings which, when aroused, seem to function 
for the well-being of others. The individual experiences 



The Education of the Emotions 415 

personal pleasure in the social service which he renders. 
Prominent in this group are love, reverence, loyalty, sym- 
pathy, respect, and their like. Those sentiments that are 
intensely social and altruistic in nature to-day find their 
origin in extreme egoism. A brief reference to some of these 
sentiments will serve to illustrate this view. Love, with its 
promptings of strong attachment for another, was originally 
an expression of dependence, of the need of protection and of 
care on the part of the young. The feeling of attraction on 
the part of the parent was prompted by the maternal or 
paternal instincts in the parents. This feeling was devel- 
oped to a high degree of intensity because of the long period 
of infancy and was in the course of evolution gradually 
broadened to include others in the family group. Sully 
tells us that originally love was ''largely a reflection of the 
various physical satisfactions and comforts which the child 
associated with its parents." 

In the course of mental evolution the individual devel- 
oped mind, with powers of self-analysis sufficient to make 
him realize his own inferiority in comparison, with the gifts 
of others. With the control of jealousy and of envy there 
was evolved a feeling of reverence toward superior skill 
and force. Although this feeling of admiration and rever- 
ence is less intense than love, it is more inclusive and 
prompts a subjection of one's own individuality to that of 
another. The highest social form of these sentiments is sym- 
pathy which finds a peculiar satisfaction in living in 
the joys and sorrows of others. It is by far more inclusive 
than the preceding forms, often more intense and very con- 
tagious socially. It is the great social tie among mankind, 
and is responsible for the universal moist eye which follows 
a catastrophe or the gladdened heart of good fortune. Sym- 
pathy can be evoked only in those individuals whose imagina- 
tions are vivid and can picture the tragedy or the joy in 
the lives of others. In its turn, sympathy is a great aid 
in comprehension and intellectual insight. Only those who 
are gifted with broad sympathies can translate their lives 



416 Education as Mental Adjustment 

into that of a Keats or a Shelley, feel the life they felt, 
live the life they lived. 

These altruistic sentiments must be accorded their place 
in the education of the child for a twofold reason. First, 
they are important aids in the intellectual life and develop- 
ment. The preceding illustration serves to emphasize the 
need of sympathy for thorough intellectual comprehension. 
What holds true in this case of literature applies with equal 
force to any intellectual circumstance. To really understand 
a theory of economics or sociology, a plan in pedagogy, a 
principle in ethics or religion, one must be able to see each 
of these through the eyes of its advocates, interpret life 
through them even as they do. This intellectual sympathy 
in no way precludes a final disagreement with the proposed 
views; it simply guarantees more accurate comprehension. A 
second reason for the cultivation of these social sentiments 
lies in the impetus they offer for moral progress. The child 
is the center of his own universe, all of life revolves about 
him; his needs, his pleasures are supreme; to them all must 
bend. While the child is an intense egoist, he is not a hope- 
less one. He must be displaced from the center of his own 
sphere and be taught to place all of mankind within the cir- 
cumference of his life. How can the social spirit be inspired 
in self-centered childhood? 

Factors in the Education of Social Sentiments: 1. The 
Social Environment. — The social environment of the child is 
the first great agent operating for the refinement of the ego- 
istic feeling. Parents must weave such social relationships 
about their children that their potential altruism is stirred. 
The school is, in the main, too intellectual in its appeal to 
reach the child emotionally. The education of the senti- 
ments is therefore the function of home and of church. 
These social agents must inspire the lessons of kindness, sym- 
pathy and generosity through worthy examples of parents 
and religious teachers. From the earliest years the child 
should learn the need of sparing others. He should be taught 
to dress and undress himself without calling on his elders; 



The Education of the Emotions 417 

he should experience the joy of giving through the care of 
pets, the feeding of birds, and the like. The spirit of good 
will called forth by holidays like Thanksgiving Day and 
Christmas must be expressed; the child should be a giver 
as well as a taker, he should feel the joy of helping a less 
prosperous friend by presenting him with part of his treas- 
ures of toys. Every social club of boys and girls should be 
imbued with the idea of social service and should be made 
responsible for an act of charity. Every class in a certain 
school has a definite social mission that it tries to carry out; 
one class supplies coal to a poor family, another buys shoes 
for those children whose parents cannot afford that expense ; 
still another pays for window boxes and flowers in some 
neighboring hospital. Those pupils whose financial status 
does not permit monetary outlay are organized in a "Sun- 
shine League," whose function it is to collect magazines, 
books, and newspapers from families that can spare them 
and bring them to hospitals whose patients crave for means 
of dispelling the tedium of the sick hours. The "Readers' 
Circle, ' ' composed of the oldest boys and girls, sends its mem- 
bers regularly to an institution for the blind, where they 
spend an hour or two reading newspapers and magazines to 
the unfortunate inmates. In all cases where financial aid 
is rendered the children do not know the identity of the bene- 
ficiaries, but the knowledge of the service they rendered and 
the satisfaction of the happiness they achieved for others 
stimulate the finer sentiments and prompt moral growth. 

2. The curriculum offers a second means of indirectly 
educating the social sentiments. Since every idea brings its 
own emotional accompaniment, it follows, therefore, that the 
proper basis of ideas must be given. The curriculum offers 
the inspiration of literature and history, the concrete and 
personal embodiments of those sentiments that we wish to 
inculcate. The children 's minds can most easily be influenced 
by these models if their imaginations are stirred and they 
themselves are placed in the center of the situation. To feel 
the unselfish devotion and interest which actuated Washing- 



418 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ton they must imagine themselves the great general, subjected 
to the temptation of being offered the crown. "Would you 
have refused?" the teacher asks, as she strives to stir the 
same patriotism in the heart of the child. The children must 
now imagine themselves Columbus on the bridge of the frail 
bark, overhearing the mutinous crew. "Would you have 
continued on this voyage?" is a question whose answers 
awaken admiration for the undaunted and determined dis- 
coverer. Let the child imagine himself a bird flying north- 
ward in the spring, a homeless dog, a tired horse; ask him 
to go through the trials and tribulations of a day's life in 
the precarious existence of these animals. The ideas aroused 
in the mind call forth a feeling of sympathy which will do 
more for developing an attitude of kindness toward animals 
than any direct appeal or objective demonstration. The op- 
portunities in the curriculum are too varied and too numer- 
ous to allow for more than a mere suggestion of the means 
and possibilities for emotional refinement. 

3. The Discipline and the Organization of the School 
Make For a Proper Social Attitude. — That discipline which 
is based on social needs, which makes the child realize that 
all school regulations are not the arbitrary dictates of teacher 
or principal, but are made necessaiy by social organization of 
the little school community, is constantly fostering proper 
social feeling. The previous study of discipline showed that 
the child of reasoning age must learn that property must be 
respected, books must not be torn or desks mutilated, floors 
must not he littered with papers, inkwells must not be filled 
with sand, shoes mnst he scraped clear of mud before enter- 
ing, the assigned stairways must he used, because of the num- 
bers in the schools. Others must use the same honks, desk, or 
inkwell, must sit in the same room, must not be subjected 
to the dangers of disease lurking in dirt. Discipline prop- 
erly organized on social need rather than blind obedience 
develops social insight and social perception which prompt 
social consideration and kindness. 

-4. Much can he accomplished by educating the altruistic 



The Education of the Emotions 419 

and ethical sentiments by supplying what the psychologist 
terms the "Expulsive Power of Higher Emotion." In brief, 
this principle declares that when an emotion occupies the 
mind all other emotions that are lower in the ethical scale 
disappear instantaneously. Thus the hatred that one bears 
toward an unfriendly person disappears the moment he is 
seen in a circumstance which calls forth pity. He who is 
attempting to deceive his competitor finds that all desire for 
deception vanishes as he sees his rival in an act which pro- 
vokes admiration. In the same way pity banishes hatred, ad- 
miration kills treachery and falsehood, maternal love drowns 
desire for personal safety, and real love kills bodily lust. 

This phenomenon of emotions has a twofold conclusion 
for education. First, it becomes necessary to include in the 
curriculum such subjects as are constantly making an ap- 
peal to the finer sentiments in life. These feelings preclude 
the existence of the coarser emotions. Secondly, the problem 
of ethical instruction becomes possible of solution. If, in all 
moral teaching, it were necessary to eradicate base feelings 
and low ideals before positive moral appeals could be made, 
the task would be hopeless indeed. Psychology comes to the 
rescue. Its principle of the "Expulsive power of higher 
emotions" indicates clearly the method of the teacher of 
ethics. It advises him to make at once his appeal to the bet- 
ter nature and finer sentiments of the child. The moment the 
child responds and feels the impulse of the more social emo- 
tions, all undesirable feelings are doomed to instantaneous, 
though temporary, death. 

5. Moral growth follows the expression of a moral im- 
pulse. — Speak the kind word and the feeling of love is 
aroused, do the favor asked and the feeling of sympathy is 
stirred, show anger in resentment of a wrong and the feeling 
of justice is strengthened. The ethical lesson which makes 
its intellectual appeal but provides no means by which the 
children can express the social sentiment aroused, fails in its 
dynamic aspect. An emotion unexpressed dies at once. A 
sentiment, however altruistic, that has no motor consequence, 



420 Education as Menial Adjustment 

fails to ennoble. Dramatizations of appropriate situations of 
literature and history, seeking, as they do, to afford a motor 
expression of the emotional content of the mind become, 
therefore, instructional aids in the education of the social 
sentiments. 



SUGGESTED READING 

Angell. Psychology, Chaps. 13, 14, 18 and 19. 

Bain. Education as a Science, pp. 52-120. 

Dexter and Garlick. Psychology in the School Boom, Chaps. 16, 17, 

18, 19. 
Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Part III. 
James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 24. 
Ribot. Psychology of Emotions. 
Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Part III. 

(A good bibliography on pp. 439, 469, 507.) 
Yehkes. Introduction to Psychology, Chaps. 15 and 21. 



D. THE VOLITIONAL ASPECT OF THE MIND 



CHAPTER XXIII 

THE WILL: ITS PLACE AND FUNCTION IN HUMAN LIFE 

Place of Will in Mental Economy. — The study of the in- 
tellectual and the emotional aspect of mind showed the 
primacy of feelings. Through them man becomes aware of 
the outside world as well as of the self; through their af- 
fective characteristics of pleasure and displeasure they serve 
as warning in early life. Mind then evolved a second mode 
of functioning, as an intellect ; now it can recognize and 
understand life's forces and demands. If these two func- 
tions summed up all of the mind's capabilities life would be 
static indeed. Man would be the helpless victim of his en- 
vironment, powerless to carry out counsels of intellect. He 
would receive impressions but could not express his con- 
sciously conceived plans. He would be acted upon but could 
not react. He would be molded but could not mold. "Ad- 
justment to environment" in the dynamic sense of man re- 
shaping the environment to suit life's needs would be ab- 
solutely impossible. Personal initiative and self-directed 
action toward self-chosen ideals would be far beyond human 
possibility. Man would be wafted about on the wings of 
chance. 

Will makes possible the highest development of the indi- 
vidual, for, through it, powers and possibilities are actualized, 
the noblest sentiments are expressed and the most brilliant 
conceptions of human reason are brought to fruition. Will 
is the directive activity of psychic life and makes both intel- 
lect and emotions dynamic, for it makes the mind terminate 
in action. In the ultimate analysis it is the test of human 
efficiency. It is through action that we gauge the worth of 

423 



424 Education as Mental Adjustment 

any man in the game of life. What he knows and thinks 
does not interest us. Only so far as these mental states may 
direct action do they become the concern of society. He who 
thinks beautiful ideals is not necessarily living an ethical 
life. Only as these conceptions work themselves out in action 
do they make the individual moral. Active participation in 
society determines the social efficiency of any member of the 
community. 

Judged from the highest function of mind, the aim of 
education must be to produce a proper acting individual. 
The older systems of education failed very often because they 
emphasized mere knowledge acquisition and worshipped 
mastery of facts. The new educational gospel seeks the use 
of the knowledge acquired, since it is based on the belief 
that, ' ' aside from its use, a fact has no other end or worth. ' ' 
School organization has not yet entirely freed itself from the 
old fetish. The over-crowded curriculum under which so 
many schools are laboring is an evidence of this relic of 
the former educational ideal. Another proof is found in the 
fact that almost all examinations are tests of what children 
know rather than what they can do. Promotion is too often 
determined by acquisition of facts rather than of power. 

The Meaning of Will. — What is the meaning of will, the 
crowning force of mental development? Will has been sub- 
jected to many analyses and has been explained in various 
forms because our religious beliefs and moral attitudes are 
the ultimate factors which color our conception of will. In 
the main one finds two prevailing notions of will. To the 
lay mind will is a separate and highly specialized power or 
faculty of the mind which assumes control of all executive 
mental work. This view holds that each person has an in- 
dependent self, a "psychological ghost" called will. Evidence 
of this conception is found in the popular expressions, "He 
failed because of his weak will," "Success was a foregone 
conclusion with him because of his strong will." From this 
it would appear that will is the monarch of the mind sitting 
on his throne, issuing commands and dictates and enforc- 



The Will 425 

ing their execution. This conception of will is very often 
preached from the pulpit and expounded in editorials of 
newspapers. 

But psychology refutes such an artificial conception. Will 
is only a mode of mental activity. The mind is always a unit 
in its operations. Will is an aspect of the various forms in 
which the mind can express itself. Will is therefore the 
"Whole mind in action," .... "The active side of in- 
telligence," .... "Deliberation issuing in conscious 
choice." Will is only the active aspect of ideas and 
emotions. 

A few concrete illustrations will readily reflect the truth 
of this psychological conception of will. One becomes ac- 
quainted with a person or learns a new law in his favorite 
subject. Every cognition brings with it an emotional ac- 
companiment; the new acquaintance or the knowledge is 
found to be interesting. This pleasurable feeling arouses a 
desire to know more of the person or the new principle and 
prompts to such action as may satisfy this yearning. Will 
in this circumstance is only an aspect of the idea, it is merely 
the active phase of consciousness. In the detailed analysis 
of emotions it was seen that one does not really experience 
fear unless the eyes open wide, the nostrils become distended, 
the regularity of the heart action is interrupted and every 
hair seems to rise. Sorrow without the lump in the throat, 
the heavy heart, the moist eye, the aversion for food, has no 
pangs and causes no misery. Will in these illustrations is 
only the motor side of emotions. The pencil on the table is 
recognized as the one that is missed ; the owner at once 
reaches for it. Think of whistling; what an effort to keep 
the lips from puckering. The teacher, explaining a new 
move in calisthenics, asks the children to stand in posi- 
tion as she explains the successive steps. After the first 
few moments the children begin to imitate the teacher 
despite the order to remain "in position." Punishment 
is not justified in such cases, for the very disobedience 
gives proof of attention and effort at comprehension. It is 
28 



426 Education as Mental Adjustment 

much easier for the inattentive lad to obey the teacner and 

"make no move;" there is no idea in his mind craving for 
expression. The face gives evidence of changing emotions, 
so that he who looks may read. People who have unusual 
facial control betray the changing moods in other ways be- 
yond control. The truth or falsity of the evidence which a 
witness gives can be detected by the changing heart action. 
All mentality has two aspects, an ideational and a volitional 
tendency; consciousness is therefore ideo-motor. 

Implications of Ideo-motor Conception of Mentality. — 
This conception of consciousness as a duality of thought and 
action has important conclusions for those interested in the 
conduct of children. The first of these inferences is that 
volitional training is, as a rule, an indirect process. Just as 
emotions are trained through the intellect, so, too, the will 
is appealed to indirectly through proper ideas and ideals. 
Since consciousness is ideo-motor, a knowledge of what is 
right is the first step in the direction of proper conduct. 
Merely knowing what is right is not a guarantee of right 
action, for there may be manifold tendencies operating to- 
ward opposite ends. But, all conditions being under control, 
the initial step in proper action is the possession of right 
ideals. 

This ideo-motor conception shows the teacher that class- 
room discipline must be organized on a positive rather than 
on a negative basis, that commands should take the form of 
"Do" rather than "Do not." Training based on a series 
of "Don'ts" is ineffective in the extreme for numerous 
reasons. The positive idea always looms up with irresistible 
force while the negative seems only a passing suggestion. In 
the orders "Don't scratch your desk!" "Don't look at your 
neighbor's paper!" the ideas, "scratch." and "look," have a 
fascination which places them in the focus of consciousness, 
while the "don'ts" are relegated to the marginal fringe. The 
action suggested is concrete, the negation is abstract, hence 
action takes precedence over negation. More will power 
is required to repress the tendency to action than to carry 



The Will 427 

out another action. "Keep your desk looking new" is 
simpler to carry out than "Do not mutilate your desk," 
although both lead to the same end. It is advisable, therefore, 
in a penmanship lesson in which children are making lines of 
"m's" and "n's" thus to say "Round tops" rather than "Do 



not point the tops." The repetition of "Rounder, Rounder" 
as the children write acts as unconscious suggestion and the 
character of the penmanship changes more rapidly. And 
finally it must be remembered that youth is the period of 
action when life seems to be a persistent tendency toward 
expression. When the whole system craves for something 
to do parents and teachers suggest what not to do. 

A third conclusion that we may safely accept is that will 
is more than a mere congenital gift or an accident of birth. 
Will is too often conceived not only as an independent ego 
in each individual but also as a fixed force in mental life. 
This conception holds that man is born weak-willed or strong- 
willed with failure foredoomed or success assured The 
psychological analysis of ideo-motor consciousness, however, 
teaches that if proper ideals are implanted they will take 
root and prompt right conduct. Just as there is growing 
power in every seed planted in the soil, so there is motive 
power leading to desirable or undesirable conduct in every 
idea assimilated by the mind. This view of action saves the 
teacher from the fatalistic conception involved in the hope- 
lessness of the older belief of will and gives hope and promise 
in training for proper conduct. 

Free Will vs. Determination. — The reader may ask at this 
stage of the discussion, "Is not this an open avowal of free 
will?" While this is a denial of the belief in determined 
will and predestined action there is no reason for assuming 
the other extreme to be true. Within the limits of inheritor ! 
tendencies, influences of environment, and habits acquired in 
a lifetime, man can become what he wills. Man can be what 
he pleases, but it is not given him to please to develop any 



428 Education as Mental Adjustment 

haphazard character. Every individual will consciously 
choose to perform to-day actions that are in harmony with 
the kind of life that he has led. The person who has lived 
a life of industry and conscientious endeavor cannot choose 
to pass the remainder of his days as an idler and a social 
leech. Man wills in terms of what he has habitually willed 
just as he thinks and feels in terms of all he has thought 
and felt in the past. The law of apperception knows no ex- 
ception in mental organization. 

The conclusions for volitional training are evident. We 
must lay a strong foundation of good impulses and worthy 
actions; we must develop in the child habits of right con- 
duct and inculcate proper attitudes. These accumulated 
tendencies form a powerful stock of inhibitions so that when 
a wrong act is willed the whole nervous system rises in revolt. 
A well developed will is only the resultant of the impulses of 
past life. Every new ambition in life is determined by old 
struggles and ambitions. Life's actions are like the rolling 
boulder, which is constantly gathering momentum in its 
downward journey, each moment's fall making the next 
stronger and inevitable. The sum total of human action 
gives a fixed tendency toward future action which deter- 
mines character. 

Conflict of Ideas for Action. — There are times when two 
conflicting ideas or desires occupy the mind. The stronger 
of the two leads to what is recognized as less moral, the 
weaker to a more moral end; the former brings immediate 
pleasure, the latter only the satisfaction of duty accomplished. 
Which of these ideas will be chosen, which will receive the 
action of the will? 

James states the irrevocable law as "The terminus in the 
psychological process in volition, the point to which the will 
is directly applied, is always an idea." It follows therefore 
that in a conflict of ideas that idea will receive the applica- 
tion of the will which can establish the greater number of 
associations and make the greater number of consequences 
dependent upon it. As an illustration we may consider the 



The Will 429 

lad who feels a yearning to stay away from school on a spring 
morning. There is an ensuing conflict in which he sways 
from impulse to anti-impulse. For a few moments he is a 
helpless victim tossed about in hesitation from "yes" to 
"no." What a series of ideas now flit across his mind! 
"Play truant!" The day is beautiful, others are sure to do 
the same, the boys are urging, the dread of being called a 
coward, he is not altogether sure of his lessons anyhow, just 
this one day and never more! "Go to school" brings its 
coterie of ideas to reinforce it, — the displeasure of his parents 
when they find out, the deprivations and punishments that 
will follow, all good excuses are used up. The persistency 
and the number of reasons that he can group around each 
idea will determine whether or not the teacher will count 
him among the present. Some argue, "Not the number of 
ideas called up, but the reasons which have the greatest mean- 
ing for the individual will determine the action." But when 
one analyzes what ideas will have the greatest meaning for 
him, he sees that they are those which in their turn are asso- 
ciated with the greatest number of dependent ideas. In the 
end it is therefore the number of ideas which the impulse or 
the anti-impulse can arouse that will determine the point of 
application of the will. McClellan and Dewey therefore 
urge, "True effort consists in reenforcing by additional 
ideas, desires and motives the side felt to be the weaker." 

This simple principle has its application in teaching. In 
giving an ethics lesson the teacher hopes ultimately to in- 
fluence action, for conduct must be improved. After the 
moral principle is explained the teacher must establish for 
it as many associations and interrelations and make as many 
conditions dependent upon it as possible. The greater the 
number of ideas a moral concept stirs in the mind, the easier 
does it become to act in accordance with it and to overcome 
the impulses which tempt and counsel its violation. The 
day's ethics lesson should therefore not be given in an iso- 
lated period especially reserved for it. We must wait until 
an appropriate background is offered by literature, history, 



430 Education as Menial Adjustment 

civics or class-room exigencies. Only when there is a real 
situation and a real moral conflict present can the lessons 
of ethics find that reenforcement which gives them motive 
power and makes them springs to action. 

Inhibition. — We must now consider what happens to the 
second idea which is not acted out, and, from a superficial 
appearance, seems to receive no action of the will. If con- 
sciousness is ideo-motor how does it happen that the thought 
which calls up the least number of ideas is not also motor? 
The impulse which has the greatest thought associations re- 
ceives the positive application of the will and is worked out 
in action, while the other receives a negative action of tic 
will and is repressed or arrested. This arrested action is 
known in psychology as inhibition. Our motor or efferent 
nerves carry two kinds of impulses from the cortex of the 
brain to the muscles: (1) the active impulse and (2) 
the inhibiting impulse. In the main the spinal cord con- 
trols the motor impulses, while the cerebrum, the brain 
proper, looks after the inhibitions which serve as cautions 
in life. 

Inhibition the Measure of Will Power. — Inhibition pro- 
duces hesitation and delay and thus enables each individual 
to direct his life more consciously and deliberately. Inhibi- 
tion is an index of matured will and is a measure of self- 
control. The development of inhibition becomes, therefore, 
an important phase in volitional training. Education lias 
three means of achieving this end. 

How Develop Inhibitory Powers. — The first means of de- 
veloping the power of inhibition is by a process of repression. 
In this method the teacher gives negative commands and by 
careful watching secures obedience. "Do not whisper," 
"Do not raise hands," are the edicts which the children re- 
ceive; a graded list of punishments enforces obedience. 
Since the basis of this mode of controlling inhibition is fear 
and since it depends upon the direction and surveillance of 
outside agents the method is educationally weak. It fails to 
develop the ability of self-inhibition. In many circumstances 



The Will 431 

it is the only means of preventing the expression of unde- 
sirable impulses. 

Inhibition by substitution and guidance is a more effective 
means of controlling conduct. This method realizes that re- 
pression is not always possible nor desirable, that an impulse, 
per se, is usually not bad. It seeks therefore to allow each 
child to express his cravings for action, but it substitutes 
worthy for unworthy ends. The impulse is expressed, but the 
original directions of the activity are inhibited. The numer- 
ous illustrations * of the methods of controlling instincts by 
substitution and guidance as outlined in the chapter on "In- 
stincts" will give concrete evidence of the efficiency of this 
mode of developing inhibitory power. 

A final method of inhibiting wrong ideas and low ideals 
is through the "expulsive power of higher emotions." In 
the study of the education of the social and ethical senti- 
ments in the preceding chapter it was seen that any senti- 
ment that occupies the mind precludes the existence of all 
emotions below it in the ethical scale.f The concrete in- 
stances that are offered and the implication for ethics train- 
ing that are there explained reflect the importance of this 
means of developing in the child a stopping sense which 
makes for responsibility of action and maturity of conduct. 

Will Classified in Terms of Motor and Inhibitory Impulses. 
— With motor and inhibitory impulses as the basis, all indi- 
viduals may be grouped under two heads, viz., The Normal 
Willed vs. The Perversely Willed. The adjustment of these 
two characteristics determines the following classification, 
which differs slightly from the one offered by James. 

(1) The normally willed person can control his actions; 
each impulse is subjected to that kind of inhibition which 
gives time for consideration, so that each act is not only well- 
intentioned but thoroughly responsible. This class includes 
the individual who thinks twice before he acts, who finds no 
need for apologies, whose ievel-headedness makes him safe 

Sci- page 168 
f See page 419 



432 Education as Mental Adjustment 

in danger and calm in turmoil, whose advice in the face of 
chaos is useful and helpful. 

(2) Opposed to this small group of individuals we find 
those with a perverse will, which arises from a confusion of 
contending impulses of motor and inhibitory forces. When 
the inhibitory force is the greater it is called (a) The Ob- 
structed Will, but when the motor impulse is the stronger it 
is known as (b) The Explosive or Precipitate Will. 

Explosive or Precipitate Will. — Those whose ideas work 
themselves out in action too quickly to allow for a period 
of hesitation when reason can assume control are known as 
the "Explosive Willed." This condition of perversity of 
will may be traced to a double origin. The first cause may 
be an utter lack of inhibition. Past habits may render an 
individual so weak that he cannot make a man's struggle in 
the face of the slightest temptation. "No" is unknown in 
such a person's moral make-up. A drunkard or a waster 
may not feel an irresistible yearning for those sensations 
which bring his degradation; the mere presence of the tempt- 
ing condition will lead him to commit the wrong because his 
resisting sense is dead. Such people are moral jelly-fishes 
whose organization is devoid of backbone. 

Explosive will may be caused by exaggerated impulse to 
act. "What to us would be a passing suggestion of a mere 
possibility becomes a gnawing, craving tendency to act." 
The kleptomaniac must steal, the drunkard must drink, the 
drug fiend must have his drug even if murder is the means 
of attainment. Hospital and prison records give evidence 
of the fact that men and women have deliberately chopped 
off fingers and hands, knowing that a dose of liquor would 
be administered immediately. While the average person is 
free from this exaggerated form of explosive will, it is never- 
theless found that "Most people have the potentiality of this 
disease. To few has it not happened to conceive after getting 
into bed that they have forgotten to lock the front door or 
turn out the entry gas. And few of us have not on some oc- 
casion gotten up to repeat the performance, less because we 



The Will 433 

believed in the reality of the omission, but because only so 
could we banish the worrying doubt and get to sleep." Ideas 
are ideo-motor, but under these circumstances the "ideo" 
fades into insignificance in the face of the ''motor" ele- 
ment. 

Teachers meet impulsive children with tendencies toward 
explosive wills in every class. They often make the acquaint- 
ance of these pupils under very disagreeable circumstances. 
In thoughtless moments teachers give commands with no re- 
gard as to their ability to enforce obedience. In the climax 
which ensues the teacher realizes that whether she be right 
or wrong she must be the winner if any child challenges her 
authority. The young teacher is warned never to force an 
issue before the class unless victory is assured. The sug- 
gestion is vitally important, because the teacher's prestige 
and the future good conduct of every child are jeopardized 
should the teacher lose in the battle of wills with a pupil of 
impulsive nature. 

Obstructed Will. — Opposed to these types of explosive 
will there is a class of "Hamlets" who give themselves over 
to long discourses, keen discontent, who indulge in extreme 
pessimism, but who are incapable of action. The "ideo" ele- 
ment of consciousness completely overwhelms the "motor." 
Life is one continuous struggle between knowledge and action. 
These people usually see our shortcomings, feel keenly the 
need of a change, but never take the initiative. In this class 
we find the "sentimentalists, impressionists, idle schemers, 
the drunkards, and the dead beats," in a word, the well- 
intentioned riffraff of society. 

A mild form of the obstructed will is found in the case 
of the child suffering from what is commonly called the 
"balky will." At a particular time he cannot understand 
nor execute what, in normal moments, is rather simple. In 
such cases safe and sane treatment requires that the teacher 
do nothing until the child's confusion and ten porary inabil- 
ity have passed. Nothing is quite so pernicious as the ad- 
vice given to young teachers, "break the will," "force the 



434 Education as Mental Adjustment 

child." This only makes the teacher act the role of King 
Canute, resisting the Irresistible. 

What Is Conduct? — All these forms of will and the result- 
ing expressions show that human conduct is the resultant of 
the two tendencies of inhibition and impulse to action. 
When there is a nicely adjusted balance, a mutually recipro- 
cal relationship between the two, conduct is normal, other- 
wise one or the other of the forms of perverse conduct de- 
scribed in the preceding paragraphs will result. A moment's 
self-analysis will show how wise is this struggle between in- 
hibition and action, this adjustment in human conduct. How 
miserable would we be, what dangers would we bring upon 
ourselves, if we acted out every idea or impulse ! Inhibition 
means hesitation, time for consideration, for play of the 
higher or intellectual activities. The old proverb observes, 
''He who hesitates is lost," — not always; but he who never 
hesitates is constantly "rushing in where angels fear to 
tread." The first adage puts a premium on impulsive action 
and fails to realize that reason must be the ever-guiding star 
in responsible conduct. What a curse life would be if every 
momentary fancy or passing whim actually worked itself out 
in action! There is safety in the suspended judgment. 

Factors in Voluntary Action. — The analysis of will can be 
summarized and synthesized in the answer to the question, 
"What, then, is a conscious act of the will?" In tracing the 
genesis and progress of a voluntary act we find (a) an idea 
of the end to be attained, (b) a desire for its attainment, 
(c) a belief in the possibilities of its realization, (d) a 
memory of similar action in the past, and (e) a sense of 
effort with its accompanying strain toward the achievement 
of the desired end. To have no foresight of an end. to have no 
idea of it. whether distinctly conscious or only vaguely felt, 
means to have no desire and thus precludes the volitional side 
of mentality. A mere desire is no guarantee of a voluntary 
act; a child yearns for the prize, but makes no effort for it 

because he 1'cels the race is hopeless as far as lie is concerned; 
belief in the possibilities of a successful issue is hence a third 



The Will 435 

requisite. But this faith in one 's capabilities is impossible un- 
less there is alive the memory of kindred action in the past. 
No voluntary act is ever performed unless the same or a very 
similar one has been performed involuntarily before. "No 
creature," James tells us, "not endowed with divine power 
can perform an act voluntarily for the first time. ' ' The genesis 
of voluntary action lies in the motor memories that can be 
aroused. Every seemingly new action when analyzed shows 
constituent elements involuntarily performed before. Royce 
emphasizes this requisite in voluntary action when he says, 
"Strange as the statement may seem, we cannot consciously 
and directly will any real, novel course of action. We can di- 
rectly will an act only when we have before done that act and 
have so experienced that act before. ' ' The memory of similar 
action inspires a feeling of confidence in present desires which 
prompts effort and its exertion toward the attainment of the 
initial idea. 

Variety of Action. — Activity in human life may take one 
of four general forms. The first is involuntary action of a 
purely physiological nature exemplified in the various re- 
flexes. Such acts have no place in our study. Instinctive 
action forms the second group reflecting the racial deter- 
minism in individual life. The detailed study of instincts in 
an earlier chapter makes mere passing mention sufficient for 
the present purpose. The third group is comprised of 
habitual actions such as have been acquired during the life 
time of an individual and have become second nature to him. 
Voluntary action forms the last group and makes each per- 
son capable of consciously directed action toward self-chosen 
goals. This classification of action forms a climax, beginning 
with the blind, unreasoning, automatic, inherited actions, and 
ending with the deliberative, purposeful side of human con- 
duct. Man is born with almost infinite desires for action of 
one kind or another. But ' ' the intense desire for activity is 
in itself not sufficient. ' ' From the point of view of volitional 
development the problem of education is how to transform 
mere, blind, impulsive action to rational, intentional be- 



436 Education as Mental Adjustment 

havior. Davidson conceived the same function for edu- 
cation when he defined education as the process which seeks 
to change man from his elemental to his ideal nature. 
The vital question which now presents itself is, "How can 
this be done?" In anticipating the succeeding chapter we 
may answer, first, by so training the child that by dint of 
repetition of right action and living, proper conduct becomes 
habitual. And, secondly, by giving the developing child 
proper ideals of conduct, by surrounding him with the most 
wholesome and stimulating environment, by introducing such 
forces and factors in his life that proper conduct becomes a 
voluntary ideal and a self-chosen end. The closing chapters 
must deal with the problems of "Habit Formation," "Eth- 
ical Instruction," "Heredity," and the "Social Environ- 
ment." 

SUGGESTED READING 

Angell. Psychology, Chaps. 20 and 22. 

Baldwin. Methods and Processes, Chap. 13. 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 27. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 21. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course), Chap. 26, 

Talks to Teachers, Chap. 15. 
Sully. The Teacher's Handbook of Psychology, Part IV. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

HABIT AND HABIT FOEMATION 

Scope of Habit. — Habit is the law of nature. Because 
nature is the slave of habit, physical science studies her 
phenomena and predicts with a fair degree of certainty her 
future conduct. The physician makes his prescriptions con- 
fident that the habitual organic reactions will take place; the 
chemist combines elements and produces new compounds 
never doubting that the habitual synthesis will occur; the 
engineer plans his structures certain that the laws of stress 
and strain will continue in their habitual operations. No 
physical science is based on absolute proof and concrete 
demonstration of all individual cases; all science is based on 
faith, — faith in the uniformity of nature. Since habit holds 
absolute sway in nature, one concludes, a priori, that human 
life, too, is habituated and operates along a fixed routine. 
Conservative thinkers estimate that about ninety per cent, 
of human life attains no higher level than habit. 

The scope of habit in human existence is as inclusive as 
in nature. Man shows habits of action, for he repeats the 
recurring activities in an automatic manner in the progress 
of years. Thought, too, often becomes habituated. In his 
reasoning the mathematician takes the same point of view to- 
ward all problems; the theorist looks at life's problems from 
another angle; the practical business man reduces all in 
terms of dollars and cents and makes his choice on the basis 
of the character of the balance. Within the pale of habit one 
finds even moral attitudes. The religious teacher judges the 
ethical status of any situation in terms of his divine dogma, 
the moralist applies his abstract law of conduct, the skeptic 

437 



438 Education as Mental Adjustment 

usually judges each circumstance on its individual merits, 
the good-fellow knows only the law of pleasure in his atti- 
tude toward life's demands. Personality is clothed in habit. 
Habits are the very garments of the soul. 

Habits and Instincts. — Although habit is so thoroughly 
ingrained in human life, the student must not regard it as 
synonymous with instinct. These two tendencies to action 
must be differentiated clearly. An instinct is an inherited 
nervous coordination ; a habit is a tendency to reaction ac- 
quired in a lifetime. Instincts are characteristics of a whole 
class. Study the instincts of one person and you know the 
instincts of all people. Habit, on the contrary, is an indi- 
vidual characteristic, which varies with each personality. All 
instincts are physiologically good Tor they lead to preserva- 
tion of life. Habit carries with it no such physiological guar- 
antee; some habits make lite safer and more economical, 
others sap virility and dry up the sources of energy. In- 
stincts, having the force of generations in their craving cling 
with great tenacity and almost defy educational endeavor. 
Habit with only the accumulated tendency of a single life 
presents a less formidable aspect for education. The grip of 
habit can be broken, — not as easily as the tendency was ac- 
quired, but with conscientious effort one can free himself 
from its tyranny. Because instinct is racial, the problem 
of habit formation and habit control does not loom up with 
the same hopelessness as the problems of the control of in- 
stincts. 

Importance of Habit in Human Action. — The inculcation 
of proper habits forms a vital part of the teacher's daily 
routine in discipline and instruction and is often regarded 
in education as an end in itself. This high estimate of habit 
is based on its far-reaching effects upon action. Habits tend 
first to increase efficiency of all forms of action. A passing 
scrutiny brings one to a realization of the fact that habit, 
by increasing accuracy of action and diminishing fatigue of 
mind and body, insures greater speed. The little girl learn- 
ing to play the piano takes an aggravatingly long time before 



Habit and Habit Formation 439 

she strikes the proper key; although she pays close attention 
to her practice she usually touches the wrong ones; she soon 
tires of her lesson, for her mind is wearied and her fingers 
are strained. But after months of practice every action 
shows increased efficiency which comes from habituation; 
each movement is performed in proper time, each note is 
struck with far greater accuracy and the hour at the piano 
becomes a source of pleasure and even a means of recreation. 

A second vital result of habit is its tendency to mechanize 
the petty processes of daily life and reserve higher mentality 
for new coordinations. If habituation were impossible the 
mind would be occupied with the problems of adjusting one's 
clothing, eating one's food, carrying out the insignificant 
routine of existence ; in writing or in reading all thought 
would go to the mechanical aspects of symbol formation and 
interpretation rather than to the rational phases of these 
activities, which give understanding. Because habit holds 
the mechanical activities in captivity, consciousness is set free 
to devote itself to new endeavor and finer adjustments. 
Life's plane is raised above the petty routine of physical 
existence; life's horizon is widened and its possibilities are 
made infinite. 

Physiological Basis of Habituation. — It is interesting to 
trace the gradual change in action from the voluntary to the 
routine level, the steps in the inculcation of a habit. The 
diagram on page 440 may help by its graphic appeal. In 
teaching the correct position in penmanship to beginners, the 
teacher points out the essential elements of bodily posture, 
facing, placing of hand on desk, the position of wrist, the 
relative position of fingers, etc. The child listens attentively, 
watches the teacher as a model and then imitates every atti- 
tude consciously. The impressions are received by the end 
organs, carried along the afferent nerves to the sensory side 
of the cord and then transmitted to the sensory area in the 
brain, where these sensory appeals are interpreted and trans- 
muted into motor impulses. The tendency to action starts in 
the motor area of the brain, passing through the motor side 



440 



Education as Mental Adjustment 



of the cord, thence to the efferent nerves which stimulate the 
muscles to perform the desired action. In eacli of the earlier 
lessons this long circuit is traversed as the child consciously 
sets himself to assume the correct writing position. After 



Brain 





Muscle 



weeks of drill the action becomes less conscious and more 
automatic, because, with the repeated stimulations of the 
cells at "a" in the spinal cord, the cells at "b" in the motor 
area develop a special sensitivity and react without waiting 
for the warning to come in the regular circuit through the 
brain. The sensory stimulation at "a" leaps across, so to 
speak, and becomes a motor impulse at "b". A habit takes 
this short cut (indicated by the dark-lined arrow) and thus 
makes action speedier because of the shortened circuit, more 



Habit and Habit Formation 441 

accurate because it is automatic, and less fatiguing to the 
mind because the nerve center is in the spinal cord. 

Physiologically speaking, therefore, habit formation con- 
sists in transferring the seat of control of any appeal to con- 
sciousness from the brain to the spinal column, thus leav- 
ing the former free to new and higher adjustments. We 
may conclude in the words of Angell, "Without habit con- 
sciousness would never get beyond the borders of the in- 
evitable routine. With habit, it is able to pass from victory 
to victory, leaving behind in captivity the special coordina- 
tion of needs." 

Laws Governing Habit Formation. — Having seen the scope 
and general importance of habit in education and human 
action, we must consider the conditions which govern their 
formation. Briefly, we may say these are four: 

1. Mechanical Cause. — It is apparent that habits cannot 
form without repetition. Habits are the garments of the 
soul. To have these fit one must wear them a number of 
times so that he impresses upon them the creases which will 
make them peculiarly his own. Mere mechanical repetition 
will not suffice ; the repetition must be regular and frequent. 
Master an action by repeating it at regular frequent inter- 
vals and the action soon masters you. There are "Habits 
that have us" and "Habits that we have." The difference 
between the two is found in the fact that the former repre- 
sent habits already formed, the latter, habits in the process 
of forming. 

Although repetition is an obvious essential in the process 
of habituation, it is nevertheless neglected in teaching 
which seeks to mechanize knowledge or action. In plan- 
ning a lesson it is desirable to decide what must be rational- 
ized and what must be mechanized. In teaching subtraction 
of whole numbers in problems of the type of, 57 — 38, the 
teacher must realize that, despite the Austrian method or the 
method of decomposition, little of the numerical operations 
is really understood ; the aim must therefore be to mechanize 
the process through repetition. The mode of subtraction 
29 



442 Education as Mental Adjustment 

must become a habit; the sooner the drill is applied, the 
sooner will the child mechanize the procedure. 

It is not unusual to find a teacher of a particular grade 
trying to teach all the rules of punctuation or trying to eradi- 
cate all forms of incorrect oral speech. Each rule or each 
incorrect sound receives only passing attention. The results 
are discouraging, but not surprising; the child still remains 
indifferent to punctuation, the same inaccuracies of pronun- 
ciation are heard. Repetition, the price of habit formation, 
is lacking in such teaching. Supervisors and principals of 
schools must list all the rules of punctuation that are worth 
while, all the common errors of speech that are serious enough 
to merit class attention. They must then make definite as- 
signments to each grade so that a teacher in a specific grade 
is responsible only for the rules governing the uses of the 
comma in punctuation and for the correction of two or three 
specific errors of speech. In this way repetition is assured 
and the children acquire the habit of using commas cor- 
rectly before the end of the term and the habit of pro- 
nouncing ivh, th, and ing in accordance with the standards 
of English. Proper organization, subdivision and allotment 
of the formal side of language study afford each grade 
teacher opportunity for drill which produces proper mechan- 
ization. 

2. Physiological Cause. — But why should repetition so 
ingrain an action that it becomes second nature? The ex- 
planation lies in the physiological phenomenon that was noted 
in a very early connection in our study, viz.. the plasticity of 
the nervous system. It was seen that every impression makes 
its nerve rut, every repetition of the original impression 
simply deepens the nerve paths already made. Each repeti- 
tion of a past action, or a familiar impulse enables it to travel 
with less friction along a well-marked groove: it is like the 
wagon falling into the old wheel ruts on the road. Youth is 
therefore the period of habit formation, for then the system 
is most plastic and yields easily to the impress made upon it. 
Habits arc little more than the stored-up modifications of the 



Habit and Habit Formation 443 

nervous system produced by mere mechanical repetitions. 
Youth is the designer of manhood; it is the period in which 
we are in the molding shop. 

3. Psychological Cause.— From a psychic point of view, 
habit is an application of the law of association of ideas. 
Because of the repetition the mind learns to associate the com- 
ing of "a" with the subsequent action "b". Whether there 
is logical connection or not makes no difference; present the 
one and the other leaps up into the mind with irresistible 
force and works itself out before we are fully aware of it. 
The intimacy in the relationship between the idea and action 
is the psychological explanation of habit. 

4. Personality. — A final consideration determining the 
ease with which habits are acquired is personality. The per- 
son who has a strong social nature, who is weak-willed, falls 
into the rut quickly and is hardly conscious that he is taking 
on an action in which he is being mastered rather than one 
in which he is master. He who has a strong individuating 
nature and strong will power resists the tendency of habit 
formation which turns him into an automatic machine im- 
pelled by past tendencies rather than present deliberation. 
Habits, both good and bad, are very often the result of human 
weakness and manifestations of puerile will power. The fact 
that habits are generally not indices of strong individuality 
must in no way be regarded as militating against their utility 
in the economy of life. 

Dangers in Habit Formation. — There is a dangerous side 
to habit formation that should keep us on the qui vive, con- 
stantly guarding the process. To begin with, we have the 
obvious danger, — there is no guarantee that the habits con- 
tracted will be desirable. These bad habits hold us in bond- 
age; escape from their thraldom is not easy. Very often 
changing fixed habits of life brings with it bad mental and 
physical effects. The drunkard cannot be turned into a total 
abstainer without undermining his constitution; the athletic 
student who has developed physical habits finds that the 
sedentary life forced upon him by examinations affects his 



444 Education as Mental Adjustment 

heart. A bad habit is often supplanted by one less bad; this 
in its turn by one still less undesirable; only in this gradual 
way, which requires time and effort, can one safely rid him- 
self of his past self. 

A second limitation in habit formation is seen in the fact 
that habits are formed during the period of plasticity; but 
this is the period of youth when the individual cannot judge, 
when he cannot discriminate between desirable and unde- 
sirable. But in later life, when maturity brings the light of 
reason, he realizes his errors ; then it is too late, for the whole 
nervous apparatus has hardened and he is held fast in its 
rigidity. We stumble upon our habits in the darkness of 
life. The light of maturity is often too late to guide us in 
our erring ways. 

Another undesirable aspect of habits is that they deaden 
the sensibilities and make us indifferent where we ought to 
be most concerned. Experience that is habituated brings 
little emotional accompaniment and does not stir the mind. 
The country resident is confused by the constant din and 
noise of the city, by the hustle and bustle of the urban streets ; 
his city cousin pays no attention to these. The rural toilers 
go about their work totally oblivious of the beauty and the 
magnificence of nature about them. The city dweller is alive 
to every change of color, of shade, of scenery. The best 
criticism of the weaknesses and limitations of our government 
was written by an Englishman, who received his training and 
education in England. This is no mere accident. It is ex- 
plicable apart from his native ability. Over- familiarity with 
American government has made the citizen blind to inherent 
defects. The fresh mind is struck at once by them and they 
loom up as serious limitations. The casual observer is always 
amazed as he watches the experienced charity worker inter- 
viewing an applicant for relief. Every detail of the suf- 
ferer's story that racks the human heart with sorrow and 
calls forth deepest sympathy, he takes down in cold blood 
as answers to the regular stereotyped items of the printed ap- 
plication blank. Repetition of similar experience has so 



Habit and Habit Formation 445 

dulled his sensibilities that conditions, which stir intense pity 
in others, find him thoroughly calloused. Workers in very 
hazardous trades become so accustomed to the sight of bodily 
injury that they show little interest when their fellow toilers 
are maimed in the discharge of their duty. 

This same undesirable side of habit has its application in 
every possible phase of human life. In all movements for 
reform, the great problem of the leader is to awaken the 
people from the lethargy into which they have sunk because 
of habitual experience. The Russian peasant has always been 
held in abject serfdom; he is therefore insensible to his own 
misery. Every social leader succeeds only when the deaden- 
ing forces of custom and social habit are broken. Habit as 
a controlling factor in human life cannot receive unreserved 
commendation. 

The Control of Habits. — In attempting to direct the tend- 
ency toward habit formation, we are confronted by two prob- 
lems, viz., "How to form habits" and "How to break a 
habit." The inculcation of habits will be rendered easier if 
the teacher will approach the problem through motivation. 
There must be stirred in the child a desire to acquire the 
specific habit under consideration. In the endeavor to make 
punctuality, neatness, correct posture in penmanship, etc., 
habits, the teacher must show the child his need of each of 
these for his future well-being. Once motive is aroused, sin- 
cere cooperation on the part of the child is assured. Clear 
perception of the habit to be formed helps the child mate- 
rially in his efforts to master an action. We must be sure 
that the child has an accurate visual impression of the slant 
and the uniformity that must be habituated in penmanship, 
that he understands clearly how greater neatness can be at- 
tained in all written work, etc. After the proposed habit 
has been motivated and clearly comprehended by the pupil, 
the law of repetition must be applied with a rigor that shuts 
out the possibility of a single exception. 

The problem of "How to break habits" is not very fre- 
quent in the strict sense of the phraseology. When habits are 



446 Education as Mental Adjustment 

deemed undesirable they are usually neglected and the indi- 
vidual proceeds to acquire a new habit, one more desirable 
and tending to counteract its predecessor. The problem re- 
solves itself very often into one of replacement rather than 
displacement. The child who has developed the habit of 
doing work carelessly and slovenly is led to keep his hands 
clean, to place a blotter under his moist fingers in all writ- 
ten work, to use a ruler in drawing all lines, etc. By con- 
stant inspection and supervision these practices are repeated 
until the habits of care and neatness are evolved. The old 
habit dies a natural death, although nothing was done directly 
to break its hold. Good habits have therefore an expulsive 
power over bad ones, just as the better emotions preclude and 
expel the less desirable ones from the mind. 

The effort to break a habit or to acquire a habit which is 
designed to nullify an older but an undesirable one is mate- 
rially minimized if the traditional cautions are kept in mind. 
Chief among them we must mention the following: 

(1) Force the right action; preaching and mere resolv- 
ing are futile. Habit is usually a form of action ; the only 
method of counteracting action is through action. Less reso- 
lution, more execution is the law of habit formation. 

(2) The individual must decide on a vigorous initiative. 
He must burden himself with obligations for failure to live 
up to his resolution, so that he will have good cause to resist 
the temptation to yield. James cites an interesting storj^ of 
the man who advertised a reward of fifty gulden to any one 
who found him in a public ale house. 

(3) Beware of the exception. The individual must not 
indulge in self-delusions of the form of, "This time doesn't 
count," "Beginning with next Monday I shall . . . . ' It 
may not count with the victim of the habit, but it does with 
the nervous system. The exception restimulates ;) nervous 
path eager to respond at a time when one is most anxious to 
dim it through disuse. Where we are trying to rid our chil- 
dren of such undesirable habits as chewing gum, throwing 
papers about the room, biting finger nails, etc., "general re- 



Habit and Habit Formation 447 

minders" are exceedingly helpful. Badges, ribbons, buttons, 
mottoes, etc., bearing the reminder help to keep before the 
children's minds the need of persistently refraining from the 
objectionable act. 

An old religious story tells of a large "Record Book" 
in which each one's debit and credit accounts of life were 
recorded by a "Recording Angel." The tale is not as fanci- 
ful as it appears at first sight. It is only a figurative de- 
scription of a stern reality. Each individual is his own "Re- 
cording Angel," each one's nervous system is his "Record 
Book." A more faithful system of record keeping has never 
yet been devised. 

(4) A feeling of confidence in one's ability to finally 
achieve success is absolutely essential. The victim of an un- 
desirable habit cannot free himself from its fetters because 
he approaches the attempt to break the old routine with a 
feeling of helpless impotence. The grave danger of the 
habitue is the helpless plea, "It's no use." In struggling 
with a habit we succeed only as we sincerely believe in our 
ability to attain ultimate success. 

(5) In seeking to control habits the same methods appli- 
cable to the direction of instincts can well be applied. The 
three forms of control are disuse, punishment, and substitu- 
tion. Disuse is the least educational method, for it is a mode 
of repression. Merely to command, "Do not do so," affords 
the least guarantee that an action for which there is a 
natural yearning and for which the whole nervous system is 
attuned, will be suppressed permanently. This method re- 
quires constant direction from outside agents and develops 
a spirit of dependence rather than power for self-direction. 
Punishment is little more efficacious, for it applies only when 
the punishment is a natural consequence of the act and brings 
discomfort which far outweighs the pleasure derived from an 
indulgence in the habit. It is evident that such forms of 
punishment are few and are used on rare occasions. , This 
second mode of control also necessitates direction by the 
teacher, constant watching and threatening, pressure from 



448 Education as Mental Adjustment 

without rather than from within. Control of habits by sub- 
stitution realizes that the tendency in a habit may be de- 
sirable, but that the end alone is objectionable. This method 
allows the habit to express itself and concerns itself with an 
effort to turn the action toward proper ends. A child may 
have acquired a desire for excitement in all forms of chance; 
this interest leads him to gamble with dice or to bet. The 
speediest cure that can be effected is to develop in such a 
child an active interest in athletics, which leads him to par- 
ticipate in all games. Athletics is replete with situations af- 
fording the excitement of chance, but it is a conventional 
speculation, a legitimate gamble. 

Conclusions for Teaching. — There are important deduc- 
tions that must be made from our knowledge of habit forma- 
tion. These are vital in all teaching. The first conclusion is 
the answer to the question, "Can Habits be Generalized?" 
Habit, it was seen, is a fixed reaction to a definite stimulus. 
A general habit is in the very nature of the case an impossi- 
bility. The problem of generalized habits is only a restate- 
ment of the doctrine of formal discipline for it posits the 
question, "Can a habit of thought or the habit of systematic 
arrangement in arithmetic be applied in all other subjects 
where thought and systematized form are essential?" The 
analysis of formal discipline answered the question for us. 
Hence it follows that habits developed in one experience are 
applicable in other situations in direct proportion to their 
similarity. The habit of concentration developed in arith- 
metic materially aids concentration in any other academic 
subject, but the habit of proper arrangement of work in a 
problem does not guarantee equal ability in other forms of 
systematization. 

Each teacher must decide what habits can be inculcated 
through each subject and then by a process of repetition in 
a series of drill lessons endeavor to attain them. Every sub- 
ject can be made to yield at least three groups of habits, 
viz., (1) mechanical habits, (2) mental habits, and (3) sub- 
ject habits. Taking arithmetic as a subject for illustration, 



Habit and Habit Formation 449 

we find that it yields the following habits : mechanical habits, 
— neatness, systematic form of work, accuracy ; mental habits, 
— concentration, analytical reasoning in a problem, a mode 
of attacking a similar situation; subject habits, — basic facts 
in tables of weights and measures, four processes as applied 
to whole numbers, common and decimal fractions, verifying 
answers, etc. The habits which the term's work in arith- 
metic can yield should be regarded as the minimum require- 
ment of each child. All methods of teaching and class man- 
agement should aim at a realization of these habits as their 
primary function. 

A second conclusion for the teacher is that in trying to 
inculcate habits through any subject we should, in many 
instances, follow the mode of habit formation in real life. In 
the course of experience habits are acquired blindly ; in the 
course of maturing they are gradually understood by the 
individual. The child learns to walk, talk, adjust his cloth- 
ing, behave at table, etc., before there is a comprehension 
of what he is doing. Much time would be saved and useful 
energy conserved if in our teaching we tried to make certain 
processes habitual before expecting a thorough comprehension 
of them. In teaching such topics as division, multiplication by 
numbers of two orders, the least common denominator of 
fractions of the type of £, f, -§, |, it is best to habituate 
the solution and wait for time and deeper insight into num- 
ber to make clear the painful series of "whys" and "where- 
fores." There seems to be a popular superstition that the 
sequence must always be "From idea to habit." There are 
innumerable teaching situations in which the opposite order 
is both desirable and legitimate. 

A third conclusion of the study of habit is the message 
which habit has for teacher and pupil. To the teacher, habit 
is one of the primary functions of education. The object of 
all class-room instruction in discipline is to establish such 
coordination in the child that proper thought and action are 
habituated. To thinkers of the type of James, the inculca- 
tion of proper habits is the sole aim of education. Address- 



450 Education as Mental Adjustment 

ing himself to the teacher, he says, "You should regard your 
professional task as if it consisted chiefly and essentially in 
training the pupil for proper behavior; taking behavior not 
in the narrow sense of manners, but in the very widest pos- 
sible sense, as including every possible sort of fit reaction in 
the circumstances in which he may find himself brought by 
life's vicissitudes." 

To the teacher, habit reflects the greatness and the no- 
bility of his work. It shows him how truly an artist's work 
it is that he is doing. Just as the sculptor impresses his 
ideals and his genius on the plastic clay, so does the teacher 
mold men and shape human character out of the plastic 
nervous system which the child brings to him. • 

To the child, habit sounds a warning note. It shows him 
clearly its sinister side fraught with danger and pitfall from 
which escape is often impossible. Occasional talks on habits, 
their uses and their dangers, suggestions for weakening their 
hold on character, should form an important part of every 
elementary and high school course of study in ethics. 

There is danger even in good habits. Habit is fixed and 
makes for a life of repetition and duplication, but not for 
progress. Habits must be improved and made progressive, 
otherwise life becomes static. It is because of the absolute 
tyranny inherent in habit that Rousseau prescribes for Emile 
an education free from all habits except the habit not to ac- 
quire habits. 

SUGGESTED HEADING 

Angell. Psychology, pp. 52-63. 

Barley. Educative Process, Chaps. 7 and 8. 

Horne. Psychological Principles of Education, Chap. 26. 

James. Psychology (Briefer Course ). Clin p. 10. 

Talks to Teachers, Chap. 8. 
Oppenheim. Mental Growth and Control, Chap. 7. 
Eow*. Habit Formation and the Stienoe of Teaching. 



CHAPTER XXV 
EDUCATION FOR SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY 

Limitations of Habits as Ultimate Ends of Human Conduct. 
— A preceding chapter outlined four possibilities of human 
action, viz., physiological reflexes, instinctive reactions, 
habitual action, and volitional activity. The first of these be- 
longs to the province of physiology, the second and the third 
have been treated fully in a foregoing chapter ; there remains, 
therefore, a consideration of volitional activity, which is the 
measure of human conduct. The crowning glory of all action 
cannot be accorded to habit. To do the right because the 
whole nervous system and mental organization are attuned 
to the proper reaction does not guarantee an ability to meet 
a new situation and come to a conclusion equally moral. The 
loftiest plane of human conduct is that on which, through 
conscious choice and mature deliberation, the proper goal is 
selected and every effort is strained for its realization. Such 
endeavor, the psychologist calls volitional activity. Its chief 
characteristics are its ability to meet new ends, its striving 
toward a definite purpose, its possibilities for hesitation in 
action, suspension in judgment and changeability in direction 
of activity. 

Volitional Ability the Measure of Developed Will. — 
The efficiency of volitional activity determines the degree of 
development of will. This observation, evident as any axiom 
in mathematics, is often completely overlooked in the lay- 
man's discussion of will. The popular notion always holds 
that victory in the face of obstacles is a determining char- 
acteristic of a well-developed will, that he who does right 
despite almost uncontrollable craving and temptation to do 

451 



452 Education as Mental Adjust incut 

wrong, gives evidence of a well-developed will, that he who 
is templed but does not deceive nor take advantage has at- 
tained an enviable development of volitional power. 

What is a Developed Will? — The fallacy in this popular 
conception becomes apparent upon closer scrutiny of the 
moral situation. Granting the lay conception to be correct 
it would follow that the person who, without temptation, does 
what is right is weak-willed and that moral victory without a 
keen struggle is an evidence of volitional impotence. If con- 
trol of temptation is the measure of character, then the honest 
man who does not feel the demon's Lure must be weak in- 
deed. Psychologically, the strong will is the trained and the 
controlled will. He who hears temptation's call gives evi- 
dence of a will that lacks training and control. He who wins 
in the face of alluring temptations deserves credit, but he 
who does the right because it looms up as the only light on 
the individual's moral horizon, not only wins admiration but 
merits emulation. 

Ethical Instruction and Volitional Life 

The Plea for Ethical Instruction.— Conduct of such a high 
moral order is the moral plane to which we must raise the 
volitional life of our students. That this can be done is 
the confident boast of the enthusiasts of moral instruction. 
To them character is a cumulative effect, and a vigorous, per- 
sonal and inspiring presentation of a course in ethics is an 
agent of potent influence. Ethical instruction, they argue, 
is a special need in present social life. The pressure of pov- 
erty, poor housing, city congestion with its attending de- 
moralizing forces, the weakening of family ties and the de- 
creasing sanctity of the home, where mothers are wage earners 
or fathers see their children for a few passing moments each 
day, the alienation of the masses from the church, and the 
decreasing response to the appeal of religion, — these are only 
a few tendencies typical of the modern social unrest. The 
school seems, therefore, the only formal institution that can 
strengthen the moral fiber in human conduct. 



Education for Social Responsibility 453 

Limitations of Ethical Instruction. — Many sincere teachers 
feel that the advocates of moral instruction are over- 
reaching themselves in their enthusiasm. It is argued 
that ethics is the science of righteousness. It is an explan- 
ation of conduct, but not necessarily a means of directing 
action. Ethics makes an intellectual appeal that brings 
conviction; there is a wide breach, however, between con- 
viction and action. The deplorable absence of social con- 
science shows the futility of mere preaching and teaching of 
twenty centuries of Christianity. In France moral instruc- 
tion is dignified by a very prominent place in the curriculum. 
The French teacher is most eloquent in giving evidence of 
the limitations of formal ethics teaching. The priggishness 
which some children develop and the hypocritical twaddle in 
which others indulge can hardly be offset by the systematic 
moral analysis that they learn. The ethical standards they 
chatter about, the adult moral judgments which they voice 
are not conducive to the freest and most sincere expression 
of child interest and really hamper moral development. 
Life's sterner needs, not the conscious analysis of abstract 
morality, will train for ethical conduct. "The student push- 
ing steadily toward his goal in spite of poverty and grinding 
labor; the teacher, who, though unappreciated and poorly 
paid, yet performs every duty with conscientious thorough- 
ness ; the man who stands firm in the face of temptation ; the 
person whom heredity or circumstance has handicapped, but 
who, nevertheless, courageously fights his battle; the count- 
less men and women everywhere whose names are not known 
to fame, but who stand in the hard places, bearing the heat 
and toil with brave, unflinching hearts — these are the ones 
who are developing a moral fiber and strength of will which 
will stand in the day of stress. Better a thousand times such 
training as this in the thick of life's real conflict than any 
volitional calisthenics or priggish self-denials entered into 
solely for the training of the will." 

Justification for Systematic Ethical Instruction. — On the 
other hand, the indictment against ethical instruction in the 



454 Education as Mental Adjustment 

school overstates the ease. It is undoubtedly true that a mere 
knowledge of what is right is no guarantee of right action, 
but to be ignorant of the proper ideals makes moral conduct, 
at best, only an accident. With children of school age ethical 
instruction does not outline the science of righteousness; it 
merely offers the "why" of the child's own action so that 
he may realize the propriety or the impropriety of his con- 
duct in a particular experience. Conceptions and ideals of 
proper conduct can be inculcated in children of school age. 
The evidence which parents give to prove this assertion is 
augmented by the experience of directors of social centers 
and children's clubs. Boys of thirteen, who begin club 
life with no respect for law and order, can at the end of a 
year conduct their own meetings and follow parliamentary 
procedure. Children who, in the first year of club life, see 
only one use of the club's treasury and expend it for team 
uniforms and outings will, in the second year, under proper 
guidance, vote away a good part of their funds for social 
and charitable purposes. The child of adolescent age does 
not always take on faith the standards of right and wrong 
as they are imposed upon him. In this age of doubt, moral 
instruction seeks to offer ethical standards which may guide 
him in his conscious choice. 

Suggestions for Volitional Development. — 1. The sponsors 
for systematic moral training have numerous suggestions for 
parents and teachers. They urge that we develop the atti- 
tude and the habit of self-help by training children in the 
ordinary movements as soon as possible. The suggestion pre- 
viously made that children can be taught to dress themselves 
at an early age if we make for them children's shoes and 
clothes rather than small adult garments, is an illustration of 
the point under discussion. The psychological law that motor 
culture is moral culture affords more than ample justification 
for this initial prescription. 

2. "Train for conduct through proper discipline, in 
which all commands are interpreted to the child as socially 
necessary," is the second counsel. The child should be made 



Education for Social Responsibility 455 

to realize that if he lived an individual life he would not be 
asked to refrain from throwing litter into the roadway, or 
unnecessary paper on the floor of his class-room; no fixed 
time would be set for his arrival in school ; he could talk to 
the teacher without awaiting his turn ; in short, he would not 
be bound by the countless regulations that seem to hem in 
his life. Because he is a member of society he must obey 
social regulations. The child who obeys from a sense of 
social need is receiving a training in social conduct. 

3. The curriculum is the third factor in moral teach- 
ing. Through history, literature, civics, ethics it gives the 
child an ideational basis for proper action. If consciousness 
is ideo-motor this thought appeal is the first step in the direc- 
tion of social action. 

4. Suggesting to the child the power of his own will is 
often an effective means of arousing sincere effort. Without 
the self-confidence, which suggestion can inspire, success is 
almost impossible. James emphasizes this point when he 
says: "Tell yourself you can succeed and make necessary 
preparations for doing so." This process of auto-suggestion 
does not make us blind to our limitations but rather enables 
us to approximate our greatest possibilities. 

5. "Will is developed in every free and spontaneous act 
on the part of the child. It is wise, therefore, to allow chil- 
dren the opportunity for free choice whenever practical. 
The child's life is often minutely directed, lived throughout 
between two guide lines. It is not wise to continually force 
the child to walk in the path trod for him ; he must be al- 
lowed, when the opportunity offers itself, to blaze his own 
trail in the moral world. 

6. Social life in a social group is an important agent 
for the development of will. In club life and club organiza- 
tion children learn the lessons of self-government and social 
control. Just as soon as the child comes to a realization of 
the sanctity of his own rights of free speech, free vote, par- 
ticipation in the pleasurable activities of the club, he invari- 
ably begins to respect the rights of others. Preparation for 



45G Education as Mental Adjustment 

social conduct through social conduct is the contribution of 
club life toward character development. 

There are additional means of developing volitional activ- 
ity and a sense of social responsibility. The student will find 
these discussed and illustrated in the study of social senti- 
ment in the chapter on "Education of the Emotions." We 
must conclude our cursory review of the problem of moral 
instruction and ethical guidance by noting the ultimate suc- 
cess of moral instruction as an agent in character develop- 
ment. We saw in the early paragraphs of this chapter the 
extravagant hopes and the fond dreams of the enthusiasts for 
formal ethical instruction. The practical teacher, enthusiastic 
in her work and its possibilities, realizes how far from ex- 
pectations are the actual results of direct, systematic moral 
instruction. 

Reasons for the Discrepancy between Possibilities and Re- 
sults of Moral Instruction. — The great discrepancy between 
possibilities anticipated and results achieved must not dis- 
courage the sincere teacher. The school has too great an in- 
tellectual task to give more than passing attention to charac- 
ter development. (1) To-day the school is an intellectual fac- 
tor, interested only in turning out a mind heavily laden with 
fact. This conception of the function of the school is neither 
sound theoretically nor desirable practically, but. with the 
overburdened curricula characteristic of the educational sys- 
tems of this country, the teacher is overwhelmed by the intel- 
lectual burden imposed upon her. 

(2) The discouraged teacher must also bear in mind that 
character and moral stamina are the results of long training 
and come to the fullest development in mature years. The 
faith that every moral impulse implanted in the mind will 
come to final fruition must never fail the teacher. 

(3) Aside from these inherent limitations il is doubtful 
whether the school can counteract the desocializing influences 
which so frequently obtain in the social environment of the 
children who are in greatest need of character development. 
Older ethics taught that moral character is inculcated through 



Education for Social Responsibility 457 

teaching moral ideas and then bolstering them up by as many 
forms of proof, argument, and religious sanction as possible. 
Social ethics bares the fallacy of such a smug conceit. It 
teaches us very vividly that human conduct is a cumulative 
result, the silent and gradual influence of the pressure of 
poverty, the miseries of tenement dwelling, habits of un- 
cleanliness, the temptations of city life, the love of clothes, 
the craving of sex, the limited means for recreation, the 
sins of forefathers, the health of the individual himself, and 
the host of socially devitalizing tendencies of modern life. 

(4) Society's hope for a new generation of worthier 
men and women lies in the prevention and the minimizing of 
the desocializing and demoralizing forces in the social en- 
vironment. Education must look to a new social environ- 
ment, a fertile bed from which character more lovely and har- 
monious will spring. 

Human Conduct and Social Environment. — The level of de- 
velopment which any human being can attain is deter- 
mined by definite forces and factors. We can sum these up 
under five heads. The first of these is native endowment, 
which refers to the capabilities given to each individual at 
birth. Education cannot increase this birth gift; it merely 
seeks to develop it to its highest possibilities. Self-activity 
is the second. Previous study taught us that it is the natural 
tendency of the mind to express its native endowment, to 
make realities of latent possibilities. The problem of self- 
activity has already received extended analysis and needs 
nothing more than mere mention in this connection. In- 
herited tendencies form the third set of influences molding 
human nature. The physical environment and the social en- 
vironment constitute the fourth and the fifth of these factors 
in human development. Inheritance and Environment are 
therefore the two general topics that we must study in con- 
cluding this survev of education. 



30 



458 Education as Mental Adjustment 

The Problem of Inheritance, or the Arrival of the Fittest 

Meaning of Inheritance. — Inheritance may be defined sim- 
ply as, "Like tends to beget like," or, with greater scientific 
precision, as "The transmission and reproduction of ancestral 
traits in descendants." It is as characteristic of plant life as 
of animal life. How far-reaching it is in human life one does 
not realize until he has tabulated the undoubted heritage 
which he receives from his ancestral lines. 

Scope of Inheritance. — Physiological Inheritance. — Man is 
physiologically and organically determined by his forefathers. 
Scientific data show the inheritance of facial characteristics, 
size of heart and principal blood vessels, size of thorax, size 
of brain, diathesis to disease, congenital blindness, color blind- 
ness, congenital deafness ; longevity is doubtless an ancestral 
gift. This list of physiological inheritance is by no means 
complete, as recent investigations prove. 

Intellectual Inheritance. — Intellectual characteristics are 
inherited as unmistakably as physiological ones. Sir Francis 
Galton, the father of modern eugenics, shows in his biographi- 
cal studies that some families are renowned for their memory 
powers, others for their rich imaginations. A study of the 
master painters shows that Titian was descended from a line 
of nine painters. Raphael, VanDyck, Murillo, Rosa Bonheur 
were all members of illustrious families of painters. Of forty- 
two painters regarded as leaders in Italian, Spanish, and 
Flemish art, Galton found twenty-one whose immediate fami- 
lies or near relatives were prominent artists. Bach. Beetho- 
ven, Mozart are only a few names in the long roster 
of musicians whose antecedents had attained high levels 
of proficiency in the same art. Galton gives long lists 
of scientists, warriors, statesmen, men and women of letters 
which show that the peculiar genius of these people was in- 
herited. The conclusions which Galton reached are fully 
borne out by a careful study of inheritance among royalty by 
Wood. Distinctive mental ability seems therefore to be the 
result of inheritance rather than of education. 



Education for Social Responsibility 459 

Moral Inheritance. — The moral possibilities of man obey 
the same law of inheritance that obtains in physiological and 
intellectual life. Karl Pearson concludes, as a result of his 
studies, "We inherit our parents' tempers, our parents' con- 
scientiousness, shyness, and ability as we inherit their stature, 
forearm, and span." Darwin tells us that families of drunk- 
ards usually become extinct in four generations. Marce sum- 
marizes the descent of the alcohol-saturated line in the fol- 
lowing dismal table: First generation — moral depravity, ex- 
cessive indulgence in alcohol ; second generation — drink ma- 
nia, maniacal attacks, general paralysis; third generation — 
hypochondria, melancholia, impulse to suicide; fourth gen- 
eration — imbecility, idiocy, extinction of the family. The 
Jukes family has become the classic example of the transmis- 
sion of ancestral depravity. " 'Max,' the progenitor of 'the 
Jukes,' was born in 1720. He was a drunkard who would 
not work, about whom little else is known. Of his descend- 
ants, 1,200 were identified as having been occupants of penal 
and charitable institutions, previous to 1874, none of whom 
ever contributed anything to the public welfare; but, on the 
contrary, they cost society over $1,000 each, or a total of 
$1,250,000; 310 were in poorhouses, 2,300 years in all; 300, 
or over one in four, died in childhood; 440 were viciously 
diseased; 400 physically wrecked early by their own wicked- 
ness; 50 were notorious prostitutes; 7 were murderers; 60 
habitual thieves who spent an average of twelve years each in 
prison ; 130 were convicted more or less often of crimes. The 
Jukes family never mingled any good blood with its ow T n." 

Mode of Inheritance. — Students of heredity have so far 
formulated several laws of inheritance that include large 
numbers of distinct characteristics among human beings. The 
subject is new, and daily contributions are received at ex- 
perimental and research stations which indicate the wider 
application of these fundamental laws. The work of the Men- 
delian students has established the principle that organisms 
may be analyzed into distinct "unit characters" which are 
inherited independently. Each individual does not, therefore, 



460 Education as Mental Adjustment 

inherit the characteristics of parents as a whole, but may 
inherit any of these "unit characters" from each. These 
"unit characters" are in no way influenced by the presence, 
either, of other complementary "unit characters" or of the 
other parent. If the male parent has the definite "unit char- 
acters" a (brown eyes) and b (red hair), and the female 
parent has the complementary "unit characters" A (hazel 
eyes) and B (black hair), it may be supposed that the child 
will inherit A, a, B, or a, b, B, or A, a, b, or any mosaic of 
these "unit characters"; but, according to the law of domi- 
nance of complementary or contrary "unit characters." the 
child will possess only one combination, viz. : a, B, brown- 
eyed, black-haired "unit characters." 

Inheritance is often affected by the intimacy of blood re- 
lationship that exists between parents. Marriage of kin is 
technically known as "inbreeding," a form of union in which 
heredity is often intensified for undesirable ends in proportion 
to the proximity of the relationship between parents. Very 
close inbreeding tends to bring to the surface unstable sanity 
and inherent weakness of the line. Both parents having the 
same ancestors often produce a union of the characteristics 
of the whole line. It is argued that, while close inbreeding 
has many attending dangers, racial inbreeding preserves the 
strength and the characteristic vitality of the race; that the 
purity of the Jewish racial blood is an explanation of the 
virility of the Hebrews. But serious students of history 
usually hold the contrary view, viz., that racial inbreeding 
produces racial puerility, and offer evidence to show that the 
Jews gained in virility only as they mixed with other ra 
and introduced new blood into their own. In artificial breed- 
ing of stock it is usual to alternate inbreeding with cross 
breeding; the argument which the professional breeders ■_ 
is thai in this way the inherent weaknesses in the Line are 
counteracted and the characteristic strength is preserved and 
intensified. 

Sir Francis Galton tried to reduce the degree of inheri- 
tance to a law which holds. "Two parents between them 



Education for Social Responsibility 461 

contribute on an average one-half of. each inherited faculty, 
each of them contributing one-quarter of it; the four grand- 
parents contribute between them one-quarter or each of them 
one-sixteenth, etc." From the facts that we noted of the 
nature of inheritance we can readily conclude that, while this 
seems to be true of a community en masse, it is doubtful 
whether such mathematical nicety prevails in the determinism 
of any one individual. It must also be remembered that in- 
herited qualities become patent at different stages in the 
development of an individual; few of them are seen at birth, 
while most of them make themselves manifest during adoles- 
cent life. Experts in vocational guidance should seek, there- 
fore, in the period of adolescence, the promise of future gifts 
and special aptitudes. 

Inheritance of Acquired Characteristics. — The problem of 
inheritance which is to-day occupying the attention of leading 
biologists is the transmission of acquired characteristics. AVe 
have indisputable evidence of racial inheritance ; we are fully 
alive to its significance for race betterment or deterioration. 
But when we come to the inheritance of acquired characteris- 
tics we find evidence lacking and scientists divided in their 
opinions. The final solution of this problem will be the great 
contribution which biology has yet to make to education and 
sociology. 

Why is This So Vital a Topic? — Acquired characteristics 
are as numerous as the infinite possibilities of education. 
Some individuals acquire physical characteristics like muscu- 
lar development, muscular degeneration, skill in movement, 
scars, mutilations, and the like. Mental characteristics not 
possessed in the earlier years in life may also be developed by 
any individual. Typical among these we find proficiency in 
a special subject, ability in certain forms of thought, 
keenness of perception, appreciation of the arts or a dislike 
for a particular form of an art, etc. Moral characteristics 
may also be acquired, for we find persons of devout parents 
showing indifference to religion in later life, those free from 
pernicious habits falling victims to them in later days, while 



462 Education as Mental Adjustment 

others who are slaves of undesirable impulses in youth free 
themselves from their bondage as they grow older. Will 
these characteristics developed during the life of a parent be 
transmitted to his progeny? An individual whose ancestral 
line shows moral taint acquires, through influence of new 
surroundings, worthy ideals of character which he makes 
basic in his daily life. Will his child come into the world 
with no higher moral destiny than that of the ancestral line ? 
A parent having tubercular tendencies develops a rugged 
body and renders himself immune to the ravages of disease 
through a life of outdoor activity and clean habits. Will the 
offspring be born the same weakling and grow up the same 
physical wreck, or will the child be better equipped for the 
physical struggles of life? These are vexing and vital prob- 
lems. If acquired characteristics are not transmitted it is 
evident that these people have no moral right to become 
parents. How hopeless and discouraging is the task of educa- 
tion if each succeeding generation has the same meager re- 
sources and the same undesirable tendencies as its prede- 
cessors ! 

Science Not Unanimous hi Its Answer. — Education turns 
to biology for the answer and finds that the leading biologists 
either express doubt or a decided negative, brushing aside 
the so-called "stock of evidence on the transmissibility of 
acquired characteristics" as spurious or utterly unscientific. 
Every argument advanced for the affirmative side of the 
question has failed to withstand the scrutiny of modern 
scientific investigation. Even Brown-Sequard *> evidence of 
the inheritance of epilepsy induced in guinea pigs has been 
discredited. The controversy, though not a new one, is 
just as intense to-day as it ever was. It may aid the 
student to take a bird's-eye survey of this great biological 
problem. 

The Affirmativt Side. — Darwin, Haeckel. Eimer, Spencer, 
and Lamarck are a few of the illustrious names of the cham- 
pions of the affirmative side. AVe may submit the following 
as typical of the innumerable data they advance in support 



Education for Social Responsibility 463 

of their contention : Blindness of the fishes in Mammoth Cave 
and of the moles in the earth is inherited ; organs unused for 
generations become atrophied in the new-born members of 
the species; "bad eyes among watchmakers and nervosity de- 
veloped in certain trades" are also transmitted. Good feed- 
ing increases the size and the possibilities of stock in breed- 
ing; the better body developed in the parent animal produces 
offspring capable of greater physical development ; the origin 
of the trotting horse shows the results of careful breeding 
of animals, whose capacity for speed in locomotion is taxed 
to the utmost; after years of breeding experts have now de- 
veloped the "trotting blood" in animals; ducks with large 
wings and short legs were bred and confined for a few genera- 
tions and it was found that the wings of succeeding offspring 
were degenerating, while the legs were growing longer and 
stronger. "Is this not proof of the inheritance of acquired 
characteristics?" the Lamarckian asks. If we deny this 
stand, then, Spencer asks, "How can we explain instincts?" 
. . . . "Either there has been inheritance of acquired 
characteristics or there has been no evolution." 

The Negative Side. — The negative side of the problem 
counts among its supporters the three great scientists, Weiss- 
mann, Galton, and Karl Pearson. They point out clearly the 
sharp line that must be drawn between scientific inference 
and conclusions based upon accidental variation. Every ani- 
mal has a wide latitude of possibilities within its own species, 
there is a maximum and a minimum point in its progressive 
development. Cattle can become emaciated to the verge of 
death or they can be fattened to their highest possibilities. 
Legs and wings of ducks have no absolute length or fixed 
proportion ; they can vary from very long to exceedingly 
short. The speed of which horses are capable varies as their 
other physical possibilities. Under favorable conditions the 
limit of maximum possibilities is attained and the latent 
capabilities of the species are realized. But with the best 
fodder cattle will not grow beyond a fixed limit; with the 
longest confinement wings of ducks will not become dwarfed 



464 Education as Mental Adjustment 

below a set standard and with the most expert breeding the 
time of the trotting horse cannot be reduced appreciably be- 
low the lowest records now held. All the characteristics 
mentioned in the argument for the affirmative are native to 
the species and not acquired. It is therefore proof that does 
not prove. We have yet to prove that blindness of the fishes 
in Mammoth Cave is not due to the development of a sport 
among the fishes in the cave, or that the fishes originally had 
the sense of sight. Science is still to gather reliable evi- 
dence that the child of the individual whose sight was im- 
paired in a particular trade will start life handicapped with 
"bad eyes." We still have to prove the mode of transmis- 
sion of even germinal variations, hence the problems of 
organic variation and somatogenesis must not be befogged by 
unwarranted conclusions from passing observations. 

Evidence in support of the failure to transmit acquired 
characteristics is plentiful. Mere mutilations, such as per- 
forations of ear or nose, circumcision among Jews, small feet 
of Chinese women, and totem marks among savages, are 
never transmitted. Most of the acquired intellectual char- 
acteristics are also not transmitted. The parents who de- 
velop a taste for art do not necessarily have artistic children. 
A Russian child, whose ancestors spoke only their native 
tongue, will, if placed in thoroughly American surroundings, 
acquire the English language with the same facility as the 
American child. The same tendency is seen in the moral 
sphere, for the acquired vices or virtues of parents are not 
necessarily given to their children. In so far as the moral life 
of the parent affects health and nervous vigor it has its de- 
termining influence upon progeny. Aside from this indirect 
effect the acquired morality or immorality of parents has no 
hereditary influence. 

Leading Biologists Have No Evidence of Transmission of 
Accjuired Characters. — The doctrine of the transmission of 
acquired characteristics would give new hope and infinite op- 
portunity to education. We must, however, realize, to-day, 
that no educational practice can scientifically be based upon 



Education for Social Responsibility 465 

it. The educator may find some support for the inheritance 
of acquired characters among paleontologists who are busy 
reconstructing life that has already been lived. We must 
turn for our evidence to the leaders in present day biology, 
to DeVries and his work on "Mutations of Plants," to 
Castle and his research on inheritance in guinea pigs, flies 
and rats, to Johannsen, the author of the "Genotype Theory," 
to Davenport and his investigations on inheritance in poul- 
try and human beings, to Shull and his "Mutations and 
Genotypes in Plants," to East and his study on "Inheritance 
of Corn," to T. H. Morgan and to MacDougal. These are 
the men who are studying life as it is being lived to-day, 
and who are gathering scientific data which point to the 
negative side of this vital biological problem. The educator 
must take his cue from them rather than from the pseudo- 
scientists of newspaper fame. 

Conclusions for Education. — Inheritance Teaches the Truth 
of the Grim Doctrine of Determinism. — We must now turn to 
the vital lessons which inheritance has for education. It 
teaches us the grim truth of the doctrine of determinism. 
Predestination can no longer be regarded as an idle theological 
theory. Physically, mentally and morally each individ- 
ual is destined for that end toward which he is carried 
in life's current. Each generation sets the limits of pos- 
sibilities for its successor. Neither education nor environ- 
ment can counteract these limits, but each can help the indi- 
vidual realize his highest development and avert the full 
force of an oncoming tragedy. One must be born great to 
achieve greatness. Children of inferior races respond readily 
to educational influences, but there is a level of proficiency 
above which they cannot rise. This line marks their prede- 
termined limit of development. Children of Hawaiian and 
New Zealand natives learn, very often, more rapidly than 
children of white races who have migrated to these islands. 
This progress is marked during early stages of memoriter 
drill; but when the thought appeal is made with the older 
students it is found that the intellectual plane is too high for 



466 Education as Mental Adjustment 

them. Teachers give evidence of the fact that these chil- 
dren are often almost precocious up to eleven or twelve; the 
mental development at that age marks a dead line above 
which they cannot rise. 

The doctrine of determinism applies with equal force 
within narrower limits than the race. Each generation is 
the keeper of the destiny of its successors, determining for 
them their future powers and possibilities. This is man- 
kind 's noblest trust, for inheritance is the coefficient of racial 
destiny. 

The Place of Eugenics Among the Sciences. — A second 
very serious conclusion for education makes emphatic the 
important position which eugenics must be given in the 
future. Eugenics comes to education with a sacred mission, 
for it seeks the study of the laws of race betterment. Sir 
Francis Galton, whose inspiration gave birth to the modern 
conception of eugenics, defines it as, "The study of agencies 
under social control that may improve or impair the racial 
qualities of future generations, either physically or men- 
tally." In its normative aspect eugenics is far bigger than 
education, for it seeks the development of the race, not the 
individual. Education is not a creative force, it merely 
seeks to help the individual attain his greatest possibilities. 
Eugenics seeks to increase the potentialities of succeeding 
generations so that education may find a rich treasure of 
human possibilities to develop. 

The Control of the Marriage Relation. — The laws of 
heredity point to another conclusion which interests educa- 
tion vitally, viz., the need of controlling marriage relations. 
There is no necessity for limiting the freedom of marriage, 
provided people realize that freedom is not license. Eu- 
genics has gathered sufficient evidence of racial tragedies to 
prohibit the marriage of the incurably diseased, the sexual 
perverts or sexually diseased, the neurotic, the imbecile, the 

ile-minded, the epileptic, and the congenitally deaf, dumb 
and blind. When mankind grows lax in its sacred trust, law- 
must force the social delinquent to be loyal to it. "The 



Education for Social Responsibility 467 

right to be born well" is humanity's silent protest against 
birth that brings with it its own death warrant. Society has 
still to learn that the physician's permission to marry is just 
as sacred as the sanction of religion. Religious leaders, as a 
body, have yet to learn that God sanctions no marriage that 
the physician does not approve. Not idle sentiment but 
grim fact forces such a positive stand. 

The authorities of the New York Institute for Deaf and 
Dumb gathered statistics of offspring of parents both deaf 
and dumb. The results show that, "Resulting from 833 mar- 
riages (both parents deaf) out of 3,942 children born, 1,134 
were defective, 308 of them being idiots, 145 deaf and dumb, 
98 deformed, 68 epileptics, 85 blind, 38 insane, 300 scrofu- 
lous, 883 died young." After long and careful study, 
Echeverria found (McKim, Heredity and Human Progress, 
p. 145) that 62 epileptic males and 74 epileptic females pro- 
duced 553 children; "of these latter 22 were still born; 195 
died during infancy from spasms; 78 lived as epileptics; 18 
lived as idiots; 39 lived as paralytics; 45 were hysterical; 
6 had chorea ; 11 were insane ; 7 had strabismus ; 27 died 
young from other causes than nervous diseases." This tragic 
record shows that only one hundred five, less than 25 per 
cent., were normal and healthy. But even these one hundred 
five undoubtedly did not escape the inevitable tragedies, for 
the third generation often pays the price not exacted of the 
second. . 

Heredity is never so heartless and inevitable as it is with 
the unfit. Studies of inheritance among the feeble-minded 
reveal an alarming perpetuation and increase of the sub- 
normal. The following chart is a graphic representation of 
the perpetual tragedy that is being enacted among them. 
The key to the symbols is simple, for black spaces represent 
the feeble-minded and the hopelessly diseased, the empty 
ones show normal progeny ; all squares represent the males 
and the circles stand for the females. We need analyze only 
two typical cases to realize how inexorable are the effects 
of the sins of the forefathers. Chart I represents the re- 



468 



Education as Mental Adjustment 



suits of the union of a normal man with a woman of feeble 
mind. Of their four children, two males were abnormal, one 
female and one male were normal. 



D- 



"5 & 



O 



tririr^i> 



CHART I 

The normal male married a young woman of pure blood, 
but the progeny shows the persistency of the original taint 
in the ancestral line. Chart II shows the same tragedy in the 
marriage of two normal individuals with a taint on the female 
side. Two of the children of these normal people are doomed 
to a life of helpless idiocy or imbecility. 



D- 



O 



O 



6 6 6 ^> i 6 l 



i ± 6 6 i 



CHART II 



An analysis of the Spanish royal line as outlined in Yerkes' 
"Introductory to Psychology." affords an additional illus- 
tration of the same grim law of inheritance. Chart III gives 
the genealogical tree in the same symbolism. 



Education for Social Responsibility 



469 



Queen Isabella^-N 
Strong Minded v_/~ 



Philip 



J — I King Ferdinand 



Average Ability 



Mary 



Feeble Minded 



II 

chloh 



The Mad' 



Chas. VI 

Melanchloliac 



/^Catherine 



Sound 



Isabella 
So 



be\\ar\ 
und Y* 



Emanuel 
Mental Weakling 



iJohn II 



Feeble 



Philip II 
The Morose I 



dOHi 



Catherine 
Minded^ His Cousin 



± 



-6 



Mary 

Normal Person 



Don Carlos 
.(The Most Depraved) 



CHART in 

The present Spanish dynasty is still in the throes of imbe- 
cility and disease; it is a mere spectre of an ancient glory. 
Dr. Goddard, of "The Training School for Backward and 
Feeble-minded Children" at Vineland, N. J., who has made a 
scientific study of the perpetuation of the unfit, has gathered 
valuable and interesting data to which the skeptic student who 
needs added conviction may turn. 

This mute evidence renews the plea for the control of 
marriage by society. Marriage is a social not an individual 
relationship. Society that does not regulate marriage is lax 
in its social control. Motherhood is sacred and human con- 
ception is divine. But that motherhood which gives birth 
to perpetual agony and everlasting despair is a curse. We 
have indulged too long in the speculation of the struggle for 
existence and the survival of the fittest. It is time that we 
give ourselves to the study of eugenics, which seeks to ex- 
plain the "arrival of the fittest." 



The Problem of the Social Environment 

Physical Environment. — The final factor that molds the 
individual is the environment with its physical and so- 



470 Education as Mental Adjustment 

cial influence. Some students of civilization have emphasized 
the physical environment until it becomes the all-controlling 
force in human development. Buckle explains the economic, 
social and spiritual life of any people on the basis of the 
laws of climate, soil and food. This physiographic explana- 
tion of civilization has been incorporated in the courses of 
study in elementary geography; the causal series as taught 
to children in their study of geography is an attempt to show 
the child that man is the servile slave of his physical sur- 
roundings, that "life is a continual adjustment of internal 
relations to external relations." 

Social Environment. — The first four factors in the devel- 
opment of the individual are more or less immutable. They 
control education; it must submit to them, change its form, 
its method, in a word, adjust itself to them in every way 
that expediency demands. But when we come to the social 
environment we find it a factor in human development which 
can be changed and modified in accordance with the ideals 
and standards of education. 

The Social Environment and the Precarious Moral Life 
of the Adolescent. — Because the child is so easily influenced 
in the period of plastic nervous organization, it is erroneously 
assumed that the proper social environment must be assured 
during childhood; that the adolescent, having attained the 
age of reason, can select his own proper social surroundings. 
This mistaken notion of the relative importance of the social 
environment in the life of the younger child and of the 
adolescent is responsible for the moral and the physical 
wrecks that are heaped high at the gates of manhood and 
womanhood. The child of school age has a social environ- 
ment that is often more or less cared for. He spends the best 
part of the day in school under the proper supervision. 
Even parents who are struggling under the hardships of 
poverty feel the dependence and helplessness of the child and 
bestow upon it the best care and attention that they possibly 
can. But with the approach of adolescence, the proper social 
environment in our large cities becomes a most vital prob- 



Education for Social Responsibility 471 

lem. The child of fourteen or fifteen, who is sent out into 
the world like a full-fledged adult to become a money-making 
member of the community, no longer enjoys the healthy 
moral surroundings of the school; the parents feel that the 
boy or girl can now look after himself or herself; the new 
life, the sensation of earning one's living, gives a false and 
immature feeling of independence. But adolescence is only 
a transitional period, when one passes out of youth into 
manhood, it is a period of change when the youth stands in 
most urgent need of proper guidance. Modern city life 
brings with it poor housing, serious inconveniences in home 
life, lack of opportunity for proper amusement and recrea- 
tion, ever-present manifold petty and ensnaring temptations, 
doubtful company of shop and office; these urban limita- 
tions make the moral life of the average boy or girl exceed- 
ingly precarious. 

The Adolescent Characterized. — The reader must stop to 
note the characteristics of the adolescent, in order that he 
may fully realize the urgent need of proper guidance dur- 
ing this age of transition from fourteen to seventeen or 
eighteen. Intellectually, adolescence is the period of thought- 
ful attitudes which question standards hitherto accepted 
on faith. Youth is not satisfied with understanding "why," 
but wants to know, "Why am I not right in my view?" 
It is this spirit which leads him to question the concepts, 
of religion and propriety that were taught arbitrarily by 
his parents in earlier years. Emotionally, too, this period is 
crucial, for the feelings assume definite and permanent 
form. The indefinite, impulsive, egoistic feelings of child- 
hood are crystallized into mature form. Great care and 
guidance are necessary, as these "emotions are springing 
into their intensest life." Bodily and organic changes 
and new physiological functions which show themselves in 
this period serve to heighten the intensity. The maturing 
emotions of this age are often exceedingly pure and char- 
acteristic of higher planes of life. 

The volitional life of the adolescent is changing just as 



472 Education as Mental Adjustment 

markedly, for now he becomes self-controlled and voluntarily 
chooses the activities to which his energies shall be directed. 
High ideals give the adolescent a wide horizon, a big world 
view, but an ethereal one at best. As he tries to adjust his 
ideal views to real society, keen disappointment usually 
awaits him. A moral conflict is inevitable. The lessons of 
the class-room seem to find no application in real life. In 
school the child learns that merit is the sole determining 
factor in success; in life the adolescent finds that merit is 
often overridden by incompetence because of invidious in- 
fluences. In school the child learns that all religion is sacred, 
in life the adolescent finds the door of opportunity shut in 
his face because he dares assert the faith for which his 
fathers died. The great discrepancy between social life as 
it is pictured by the class teacher and social life as it is lived 
is often responsible for the sinister views and the skepticism 
of adolescence. In the readjustment which must follow, the 
individual may either adopt the convenient course of fitting 
his ideals to prevailing conditions, thus merging his moral 
individuality and swimming with the tide, or, on the con- 
trary, he may decide to live up to his ideals, and thus lay 
the foundation of a life of principle. This is the period 
of storm and stress, the days of "Sturm und Drang." 
How many of our factory and office working adolescents 
must go through this conflict in an environment which 
counsels the wrong, with little or no advice from par- 
ents, who too often do not understand the developing 
child ! 

How Can Education Change the Social Environment? — 
Since the social environment is not as inexorable a factor as 
arc the other forces in human development, we must, in con- 
clusion, indicate the duty of education in changing the pre- 
carious social environment of the child. Education can dis- 
charge this social function by, first, stimulating a quickened 
sense of responsibility in the community for the lack of 
proper social facilities, meeting places, amusements, means 
of recreation, etc., and, second, by so reorganizing the admin- 



Education for Social Responsibility 473 

istration of the educational system that the school becomes 
the great social center of the neighborhood. 

The Settlement Movement. — The first realization of the 
need of bettering the social environment is found in the Set- 
tlement Movement. The Settlements are private institutions, 
which through private initiative and bounty took upon them- 
selves the duty of performing the social mission of education. 
They organized the adolescent boys and girls of the neigh- 
borhood into clubs, supplied them with gymnastic and ath- 
letic conveniences, appealed to their dramatic interests, estab- 
lished proper dancing classes, and arranged for the proper 
social life of these young people in vicinities where pressure 
of congestion and poverty made proper social life almost im- 
possible. The Settlement then turned its attention to organiz- 
ing the parents into groups. The mothers of the children 
who attended the Settlement Kindergartens met regularly 
long before the public schools made Mothers' Meetings a 
regular part of their social duty. The fathers of the children 
who frequented the Settlement were organized into civic so- 
cieties and made to feel that the Settlement is a social center, 
a neighborhood center, in which all neighborhood improve- 
ment must be initiated and from which it must be directed. 
The rapid progress of the Settlement Movement in its twenty- 
five years of life in the United States gives evidence of its 
need and its success. Its founders, Arnold Toynbee, in Eng- 
land, and Stanton Coit, in this country, will undoubtedly 
be accorded a place in the history of the education of our 
limes. 

The Church and the Social Environment. — The church 
was brought to a forceful realization of its social mission by 
the alienation of its boys and girls. Six days a week spent 
at the Settlement developed a loyalty for the Settlement which 
the church could not command for itself on the seventh. The 
church realized that it must come out of its shell of theo- 
logical dogma if it is to touch life and be counted with the 
living. In order to reclaim its young parishioners the ehurch 
organized club work, provided gymnasia and athletics, 
31 



474 Education as Mental Adjustment 

catered to every legitimate craving of youth. Spiritual 
teachers realized that there was a more truly religious in- 
fluence in proper social environment than in the glib recital 
of formal catechism. 

The Public School and the Social Environment. — The Set- 
tlements and the churches found that the social work with 
the adolescent was growing in proportions which completely 
overwhelmed them. Private bounty was not forthcoming 
with the generosity and the regularity necessary for the ex- 
tension of this work. Appeals were made to open the school 
structures in the afternoons and evenings and during the 
summers for this social purpose. But the boards of education 
of our large cities were slow in responding to such educa- 
tional heresy. To them, education had one sacred mission, 
the instructional aim; any added function would "vulgarize 
the school." But the success of private initiative, the grow- 
ing population in urban centers made this social work a cry- 
ing need and the educational administrators gave way to the 
inevitable. In the winter of 1898 only one school in the city 
of New York was used by one club for one evening. To-day 
the same city conducts recreation centers in the evenings and 
during the summer months on an imposing scale, which 
necessitates the employment of hundreds of trained workers 
whose influence reaches many thousands of young children 
and adolescents. 

Social work is now a vital part of the educational systems 
of our large cities. How urgent it is in the eyes of educators, 
how potent in its influence for good, we can gather from the 
following citations. Judge Lindsay, the well-known cham- 
pion of the juvenile delinquent, tells us, "When the schools 
close for vacation my business begins to pick up." .... 
"During the five months when the Young Men's Christian 
Association established game rooms, a gymnasium, an ath- 
letic association and the like, the business afforded the Juve- 
nile Court by this section fell off over fifty per cent." One of 
the arguments advanced for the establishment of summer 
schools in the city of Chicago was that during the months 



Education for Social Responsibility 475 

of July and August the juvenile arrests used to increase by 
about sixty per cent. 

The Settlement Movement has made a vital contribution 
to the progress of education. It proved through private 
initiative the practicability of improving the social environ- 
ment for youth in the formative period of life. It provided 
the social laboratories that tested the need and the efficacy 
of the social activities of education. It taught that the school 
must be more than a mere nursery for infant minds, that 
the school of the future must be the social center where the 
community of adolescents and adults will gather to learn the 
scientific knowledge of their crafts, to acquire added skill in 
their vocations, to listen to the message of literature and art, 
to receive their heritage of culture which education in a 
democracy must bestow upon its sovereign citizens. 



SUGGESTED BEADING 

Moral Instruction 

Adler. Moral Instruction of Children. 

Dewey. Ethical Principles Underlying Education. 

Griggs. Moral Education. 

MacCunn. The Making of Character. 

Palmer. The Teacher, Part I, Chaps. 1, 2 and 3. 

Young. Ethics in the Schools. 

Social Environment 

Coit. Neighborhood Guilds. 
Forbush. The Boy Problem. 
Hall. Adolescence, Chaps. 5 and 6. 
Horne. Idealism in Education. 

Heredity 

Bolton. Principles of Education, Chap. 9. 
Conn. The Method of Evolution, Chaps. 5 and 6. 



'J 



476 Education as Mental Adjustment 

Davenport. Race Improvement in the United States. 

Principles of Breeding, Chaps. 14 and 15. 
Galton. History of Twins, Teachers' College Record, 1901. 
Ribot. Heredity. 

Saleeby. Parenthood and Race Culture. 
Thompson. Heredity. 

Francis Galton Laboratory of National Eugenics. Report, Treas- 
ury of Human Inheritance. 



INDEX 



Acquired Characteristics, 461-5. 

See also Heredity. 
Adaptability of Curriculum, 110-1. 
Adjustment, Definition of Educa- 
tional, 14-5. 
Meaning of, 17-8. 
Adler, Felix, on Manual Education, 

68, 69. 
Adolescence, 471-2. 
^Esthetic Element in Curriculum, 
123-4. 
Emotions, 411-4. 
Agriculture, Education for, 52. 
Aim of the Eecitation, 275-8, 283-4. 
Angell, on Habit, 441. 
Aphasia, 292. 

Apperception, Meaning and Defini- 
tion, 268-9. 
Apperceptive Stock, 269. 
Its Nature, 269-272. 
Cause of Defective, 272-4. 
Conclusions for Teaching, 274- 
286. 
Application. See Method-Whole, 

339-340. 
Apraxia, 292. 

Arithmetic, Teaching of, 226-7, 
249-251, 243-4. 
Inductive Teaching in, 339-340. 
Eecitation in, 234. 
Use of Type in, 373-4. 
Assignment of Lessons, 233, 367-8, 

370. 
Association of Ideas, Basis of 
Habit, 443. 
Kinds of, 301-2. 

See also Organization of Knowl- 
edge. 



Athletics vs. Play and Gymnastics, 
82-3. 

Values of, 84-5. 

Limitations of, 85-6. 

Remedial Measures, 87. 

For Undesirablo Imagination, 
328. 
Attention, in Observation, 260. 

In Recall, 299. 

See also Interest. 
Ayres, on Elimination, 61. 

Bagley, on Drill, 216. 

On Effort, 233. 
Baldwin, on Imitation, 173, 174, 
182. 

On Dynamogenesis, 173. 
Balliet, on Motor Center, 39. 
Blank Paper Theory, 153. 
Bolton, on Imitation, 176. 
Brain as a Bodily Organ, 22. 

vs. Mind, 23-4. 

as Basis of Mental Efficiency, 
24-5. 

Indices of Control, 25-32. 

Its Two Centers, 37-8. 
Butler, ^Esthetic Element in Cur- 
riculum, 123. 

Definition of Education, 8, 92. 

Knowledge of Greatest Worth, 
131. 

Period of Infancy, 35. 

Manual Education, 43. 

Church and Social Environment, 
474. 
See also Religious Education. 
Civics Through Motorization, 265, 



477 



478 



Index 



Classics, 117-9. 

Class Teaching, Individual Neg- 
lected, 148-150. 
Clubs, Social, 455. 

Foster Social Conduct, 140-2, 

454. 
For Indecent Imagery, 328. 
Coit, Settlement Movement, 473. 
Commands, Negative, 426. 
Comparison. See Method- Whole, 

339-40. 
Composition, Social Spirit in, 120-3. 
Personal Expression, 120-3. 
Correction of, 378-9. 
See also Language. 
Compound Action, 31-2. 
Conception, Nature of, 332. 
Psychological Steps, 333-4. 
Relation to Judgment and Rea- 
son, 332. 
How Educate for Better, 338- 
352. 
Concepts, vs. Percepts, 333-6. 
Inductive vs. Deductive Develop- 
ment, 332-3. 
The Image of, 335-6. 
Cause of Defective Judgment, 
357. 
Conduct, Cumulative Social Result, 
456-7. 
Inhibition and Impulse, 434. 
Individual and Social Nature, 
5-6. 
Cooley, on Imitation, 175-6. 

On Formal Discipline, 382-3. 
Coordination, Index of Brain Con- 
trol, 32. See also Manual 
Training. 
Correlation, Psychological Basis, 
349-50. 
Enriches Concepts, 348-9. 
In Modern Curriculum, 350-2. 
See also Association of Ideas. 
Culture Epoch, Explained, 99-100. 
Harmonizes Curriculum, 99-102. 
Advantages, 101-2. 
Limitations, 103-4. 



Curriculum, Social Uses as Stand- 
ard, 12-4, 109-110, 417-8. 
vs. the Child, 93-8. 
Elements of, 108-110. 
Principles of Organization, 110-3. 
Correlation in, 350-2. 
Liberal and Utilitarian, 389-90. 
Past vs. Modern, 350-1. 
In ./Esthetic Education, 413. 
Criticisms Against, 350-2. 

Darwin, Emotions, 401-2, 402-3. 

Heredity, 459, 462. 
Davenport, Heredity, 465. 
Davidson, Definition of Education, 

239, 436. 
Deduction, 341. 

Definitions. See Concepts, 338-352. 
De Garmo, Interest as Self Expres- 
sion, 207. 
Deliberative Judgments, 356. 
Dewey, Education, 11-2. 
Curriculum, 93-7. 
Interest, 199, 202, 206. 
Manual Education, 46. 
Dexter and Garlick, Interest, 195. 

Observation, 257-8. 
Discipline, vs. Order, 139-140. 
For Social Conduct, 11-12, 136- 

142, 418-9, 454-5. 
Limitations in Prevailing Forms 
of, 137-8. 
Disciplinary Value of Studies, as 
Element in Curriculum, 109. 
As Standard for Curriculum, 

270-1. 
See also Formal Discipline. 
Disuse, Method of, in Controlling 
Instincts, 167. 
In Controlling Habit, 447. 
Dramatic Instinct, 328-331. 
Dramatization, Its Function, 320- 
321. 
In Class Studies, 265. 
Aid in Comprehension, 264-5, 

342. 
For Moral Expression, 419-420. 



Index 



479 



For Emotional Preparation, 320- 

322. 
Wrong Forms of, 318-320; 322- 

324. 
See also Motorization, Muscular 
Appeal. 
Drawing, Teaching of, 317. 

Dangers in Technique, 129. 
Drill, Explanation of, 216-8, 292. 
vs. Review, 215-6. 
Its Essentials, 218-9. 
When to Be Given, 295. 
To Form Habit, 441-2. 
Dynamogenesis, Law of, 173. 

Education, a Social Function, 3-5. 

Harmonious Development, 7-8. 

Cultural Inheritance, 8-9. 

Habituation, 10. 

Socialization, 10-14. 

Complete Adjustment, 14-18. 

A Changing Ideal, 17, 43. 

vs. Training, 155-7. 

See also Religious Instruction, 
Industrial Education, Voca- 
tional Education. 
Effort, 232-5. 
Elimination in School Attendance, 

60-64. 
Emotional Preparation, 278-283. 
Emotions, Function in Life, 395-6. 

Characteristics, 398-400. 

Origin of, 400-402. 

Physical Expression, 402-5. 

Application to Teaching, 405-6. 

Gradation of, 406-7. 

Education of Egoistic Forms, 
408-411. 

Education of ^Esthetic Forms, 
412-414. 

Expulsive Power of Higher 
Forms, 419-420, 431. 

See also Feelings, Sentiments. 
Emulation, 187-192. 

Misapplication, 189-191. 

Jesuits on, 188-9. 

Port Royalists on, 189. 



Rousseau on, 189. 
Environment, Meaning of, 91-2. 
Its Phases, 15-16. 
Social Environment, 416-7, 470, 

472-5. 
Physical Environment, 469-470. 
In ^Esthetic Education, 413-4. 
Epoch Culture. See Culture Epoch. 
Ethical Instruction, Need of, 142, 
143, 426, 452. 
Limitations of, 453. 
Justification lor, 454. 
Eugenics, 426. See also Heredity. 
Examinations, Limitations of, 39. 
The Conduct of, 233. 
When to Be Given, 295. 
Experience, Lack of, in Defective 

Judgment, 357. 
Experimentation vs. Observation, 
255. 
In Elementary Teaching, 256-7. 
Explosive or Precipitate Will, 

432-3. 
Expression to Impression, 159-60, 

160-1, 346. 
Expulsive Power of Higher Emo- 
tions, 419-420, 431. 
Eye, Index of Brain Control, 26. 

Facial Indices of Brain Control. 

See Movement. 
Faculty Psychology, 382. 
Feeble Minded. See Heredity. 
Feelings, Defined, 396, 397. 

Characteristics, 397-8. 

Classification, 396-7. 

Bias of Feeling, 260, 359. 

See also Sentiments, Emotions. 
Finger Twitches, 29. 
Fiske, Period of Infancy, 35. 
Flexibility of Curriculum, 112-3. 
Formal Discipline, Problem of, 
381. 

Basis of, 382. 

Prevalence of, 383. 

Analysis of, 383-5. 

Experimental Evidence, 385. 



480 



Index 



Modern Doctrine, 386. 

Laws of, 3S6-7. 

Dangers of Specialization, 387. 

Ideals Generalized, 388-9, 448. 

Influence on Curriculum, 389- 
390. 
Free Will, 427-8. 
Frontalis, Overaeting, 25-26. 
Functional Psychology, 382. 
Fundamental Muscles, 71. 

Galton, Heredity, 458, 460, 463, 

466. 
Generalization, Why Difficult for 
Pupils, 343. 
Who Should Formulate, 343-4. 
Burden on the Pupil, 343, 346. 
How Memorized, 345. 
A Class Contribution, 345-6. 
Dangers in Set Forms, 344-5. 
When Omitted, 347. 
See also Method-Whole, 339-340. 
Geography, Teaching of, 214, 215-6, 
217, 261, 263. 
Picture Side, 315-317. 
George Junior Bepublic, 141-2. 
Gillett, Vocational Education, 52. 
Goddard, Heredity Among Feeble- 
minded, 469. 
Grammar, Teaching of, 225-6. 

Type in, 374. 
Greek Education, 7-8. 
Groos, Preparatory Theory of 

Play, 77. 
Guidance, Method of, in Emotions, 
409-411. See also Substitu- 
tion. 
Guild System and Vocational Edu- 
cation, 50-51. 
Gymnastics, vs. Play, 80. 
Limitations in Class, 80-82. 

Habit, Scope, 437. 
vs. Instinct, 438. 
Importance in Action, 438-9. 
Physiological Basis, 439-440. 
Dangers of, 443-5. 



Laws of Formation, 441-3. 

Laws of Control, 445-8. 

Conclusions for Teaching, 448- 
450. 

Generalization of Habit, 388-9, 
448. 

Habits in Class Subjects, 448-9. 

Habituation and Comprehension, 
449. 

Message to Teacher and Pupil, 
450. 

Progressive Habits, 450. 

Not Ultimate End in Conduct, 
451. 
Hand, Weak Balance, 28, 29. 
Heredity, 458-470. 

Definition, 458. 

Scope of, 458-9. 

Particulate, 459. 

Inbreeding, 460. 

Blended, 460. 

Predominant, 460. 

Acquired Characteristics, 461-5. 

A Predeterminism, 465-6. 

Eugenics, 466. 

Control of Marriage, 466. 

Among Feebleminded, 466-9. 
History /Teaching of, 214, 217, 220, 
318-320. 

Interpretation of, 134-6. 

Picture Side of, 314-5. 
Home, Place in Industry, 50. 
Home, Brain, 24. 

Education, 92. 

Imitation, 182-4. 

Interest, 195. 

Sense Training, 252. 

Concepts Imaged, 336-7. 
Humanistic Element in Curriculum, 
108. 

Ideo-Motor, 4.26. 
Imagination, Nature, 308. 

Definitions, 309. 

Creative vs. Keproductive, 309. 

Relation to New, 310. 

Perceptual Basis, 310. 



Index 



481 



Psychological Processes, 310. 

Relation to Thought, 311-3. 

Relation to Emotions, 311-3. 

Education of, 313-325. 

Education Through Curriculum, 
314-8. 

Education Through Imagery of 
the Real, 324. 

Injudicious Aid, 318-324. 

Undesirable Forms, 325-331. 

The Reverie, 326. 

Indecent Forms, 326-7. 
Imitation, Origin, 173. 

Definition, 174. 

Social Influence, 176-9. 

Intellectual Influence, 179-184. 

Model in Language Teaching, 
179-181. 

Consciousness of Self, 182. 

Relation to Initiation, 182-4. 

Moral Influence, 184-6. 

The Teacher, 185. 

Limitations of, 186-7. 
Impressionability, 31. 
Inbreeding, 460. 
Indices of Brain Control, 25-32. 
Individuating Nature, 5-6. 
Individuating a Lesson, 261. 
Induction, 339. See also Method- 
Whole. 
Industrial Education, Among Ne- 
groes, 56, 65. 

In Germany, 54. 

In England, 55. 
Infancy, Period of, 32-36. 
Inheritance. See Heredity. 
Inhibition, and Brain Control, 31. 

and Repression, 430-1. 

Explained, 430. 
Initiation, Relation to Imitation, 
182-4. 

In Class Work, 377-380. 
Instincts, Explained, 163-5. 

Characteristics, 165-6, 170. 

Their Control, 167-170. 

Classification, 170. 

Social, 6. 



Institutional Factor, Meaning, 132. 

In Curriculum, 132, 133-6. 

How Instilled, 132-142. 

Through School Discipline, 136- 
142. 
Interest, Educational Significance, 
194-9. 

vs. Effort School, 199-201. 

Misconceptions, 202-7. 

Classification of, 207-8. 

As Self-Expression, 207-10. 

Relation to Effort, 209-10. 

How to Stimulate, 211-32, 252. 

Mediate vs. Immediate, 232-3. 
Intuitive Judgment, 356. 

James, Education, 10. 

Brain, 22. 

Imitation, 178. 

Emulation, 192. 

Interest, 207. 

Effort, 234, 389, 455. 

Emotions, 322, 403-4, 410. 

Will, 431, 435. 

Habit, 446, 449-450. 
Jesuits, On Emulation, 188-9. 
Judgment, Origin, 453-4. 

Nature, 353, 355. 

Relation to Other Modes of Men- 
tal Activity, 353, 355. 

Kinds, Deliberative vs. Intuitive, 
356. 

Cause of Defective Judgment, 
357-360. 
Jukes, The Family of, 459. 

Kinesthetic Sense. See Muscular 

Appeal. 
Kirkpatrick, Play, 77. 

Imitation, 175. 
Knowledge, An End in Education, 
240-2. 
Of Most Worth, 115-6, 131, 135, 
147-150. 

Lamarck, On Heredity, 462-5. 
Lange, James-Lange Theory, 403-4. 



482 



Index 



Language, Teaching of, 119. 

Through Models, 179-181. 

See also Literature. 
Lazarus, Play, 78. 

Old Knowledge, 270. 
Lecture Method, Defects, 358. 
Lindsay, Social Centers, 474-5. 
Literature, In Curriculum, 116-9. 

Teaching of, 221-2, 279-282, 
321-2. 

Memory Gems, 303-6. 

Picture Side, 317. 

Through Dramatization, 405-6. 
Locke, Blank Paper Theory, 153. 
Logical Memory, 289. 
Lordosis, 29. 

MeMurry, Knowledge Most Worth, 
135. 

Motivation, 204. 

Type, 262. 

Preparatory Step, 274. 

Generalization, 344. 
Manual Training, Psychological 
Justification, 37-43. 

A Motor Education, 40. 

Initiatory Step in School Work, 
40-41. 

Dangers in Technique, 41-2. 

Country vs. City Child, 44-8. 

Sociological Justification, 43-9. 

Ethical Gains, 67-70. 

Teaching of, 227-8, 379. 
Marriage. See Heredity. 
Mechanical Memory, 289. 
Memory, Definition, 287. 

Mechanical vs. Logical, 289. 

Recollection vs. Eemembrance, 
290. 

Memory vs. Memories, 291-3. 

Efficiency of Various Memories, 
292-3. 

Increase of Its Power, 293-7. 

Health and Retention, 295. 

Its Persistence, 298-9. 

How Attain Maximum Efficiency, 
299-307. 



Memory Gems, 303-6. 
Mental Development, Explained, 
153. 

Theories of, 153-4. 

Stages of, 105-7, 212-5. 

Relation to Teaching, 213-4. 
Method- Whole, 340-341. 
Mind vs. Brain, 23-4. See also 

Mental Development. 
Mind-Stuff Theory, 154. 
Model, In Language, 179-181. 
Motivation, in Drills, 219. 

Explanation, 224. 

Educational Worth, 228-9. 

Limitations, 229-232. 
Motor Centers, 38. 
Motorization, Brain Habits, 263. 

In Teaching, 263. 

Changing Sense Appeal, 263-4. 

In Concepts, 342. 

See also Muscular Appeal, Dra- 
matization. 
Movements, Indices of Brain Con- 
trol, 30-32. 

Facial, 27. 
Multiple Sense Appeal, 247, 301. 
Muscular Appeal, 245-6. 
Music, Misconception of Its Edu- 
cational Function, 124-8. 

Courses of Study, 125-7. 

Science vs. Art, 128. 

Function in Elementary School, 
128-9. 

Nature Study, 217-8, 256-7. 
Novelty, Relation to Interest, 221. 

Object Lessons, 45-46, 258. 
Objective Teaching, Relation to In- 
terest, 252. 

vs. Object Teaching, 258. 

Overobjective Teaching, 266. 
Observation, Result of Sense Train- 
ing, 252. 

vs. Experimentation, 255. 

Definition, 255. 

Development in Children, 257-8. 



Index 



483 



Essentials of Good Observation, 
258-9. 
$ Psychological Elements, 259. 
Obstructed Will, 433-4. 
Order vs. Discipline, 138-140. 
Organization of Knowledge, In Re- 
call, 301. 
Mechanical vs. Logical, 302. 
Ostermann, On Interest, 209. 

Pearson, On Heredity, 459, 463. 
Percept, vs. Image, 288. 

vs. After-image, 288. 

vs. Concept, 333-6. 
Perception, Meaning, 243. 

Influence on Teaching, 244-7. 

See also Sense Training. 
Peripheral Muscles, 71. 
Person, On Industrial Education, 

53. 
Personality in Habit Formation, 
443. 

See also Individuality. 
Physical Development, 71. 
Physics. See Science. 
Picture Study, 130, 317. 
Plasticity of Nervous System, In 
Mental Development, 23-25. 

In Habit Formation, 442-3. 
Play, Definition, 73. 

vs. Work, 73. 

Spirit in Class Work, 74. 

Educational Aspects, 75-6. 

Theories of Its Origin, 76-9. 

City Life and Play, 79. 
Port Eoyalists, On Emulation, 189. 
Power, An End of Education, 

240-2. 
Prejudice. See Feelings, Bias of. 
Preparatory Step, 274-6. 

Emotional Preparation, 278-283. 

See also Method-Whole, 339-340. 
Presentation. See Method-Whole, 

339-340. 
Presentative Stage, 105, 212. 
Prizes, 191. 
Problems, Nature of, 205. 



Punishment, To Control Instincts, 
168. 
To Control Egoistic Emotions, 

409. 
To Control Habit, 447. 
Of Natural Consequences, 168, 
447. 
Pupils' Self -Government, 140-2. 

Questions, Irrelevant, 377-8. 

Reading, the Recitation, 119-120, 
377-8. 

See also Literature, Language. 
Realistic Element in Curriculum, 

108-9. 
Reason, Nature and Origin, 360. 

Steps in Thinking, 360-2. 

Forms, 362. 

How Help Child to Think, 363- 
3S0. 

All Subjects Allow for Thought, 
380. 

See also Thought. 
Recollection vs. Remembrance, 290. 
Recreation Theory of Play, 78. 
Reflection, Lack of, in Judgment, 

357-8. 
Religious Instruction, In Curricu- 
lum, 142-3. 

In Past vs. in Present, 143-4. 

Systems of, 144-5. 

Ignorance of Bible, 145-6. 

Need of Biblical Reader, 146. 
Remembrance vs. Recollection, 290. 
Repetition, In Recall, 300. 

In Habit Formation, 441-2. 
Representative Stage of Mental 

Development, 105, 212. 
Reverie, 326. 
Review, vs. Drill, 215-6. 

Explanation, 216-8. 

Essentials, 218. 

For Enriched Concepts, 347-8. 
Rivalry, 187-192. 
Rousseau, Emulation, 189. 
Royce, Will, 435. 
Ruskin, ^Esthetic Education, 414. 



484 



Index 



School, Character Agent, 456-7. 

Social Force, 474. 
Science, Place in Curriculum, 
114-6. 

The Teaching of, 222-3. 

See also Spencer. 
Self-Activity, 155-160. 
Self -Government, 140. 
Self-Relianee, 454. 
Sense Realists, 249. 
Sense Training, Emphasizes Real 
World, 252-4. 

Meaning, 247. 

Causes for Sense Improvement, 
247-8. 

Why Important, 248-254. 

How Given, 254-266. 
Sensory Center, 37-8. 
Sentiments, 407. 

Social and Ethical, 414-6. 

Their Education, 416-420. 

iEsthetic. See Emotions. 

See also Feelings. 
Settlement Movement, 473-5. 
Skill, An End in Education, 240-2. 
Social Environment. See Environ- 
ment. 
Socratic Questioning, 375-7. 
Specialization in Industry, Relation 

to Industrial Education, 51. 
Spencer, Theory of Play, 77. 

Science, 115-6. 

Knowledge Most Worth, 115-6. 

Mind-Stuff Theory, 154. 

Heredity, 462, 463. 
Spontaneity of Action, Index of 

Brain Control, 30. 
Stream of Consciousness, 157. 
Study, For Thought Development, 
363. 

vs. Teaching, 363-5. 

Children Deficient in, 365-6. 

Difficult for Children, 366-7. 

How Teach Art of, 367-373. 

How Assign Study Lessons, 367- 
8, 370. 

Steps in, 368-370. 



Selective and Discriminative, 

368-9. 
The Pupil as Critic, 369. 
Adjust Method of, to All Sub- 
jects, 371-2. 
Ultimate Aims of, 372-3. 
Study Period, When to Be Given, 
295. 
Its Organization, 367-372. 
Substitution and Guidance, Method 
of, In Instincts, 168-9. 
In Inhibition, 431. 
In Habit, 447-8. 
Sully, Sense Training, 249. 



Tarde, Laws of Imitation, 178. 
Teacher, The Model for Imitation, 
185-6. 
Factor in Interest, 223. 
Layman's Conception of, 364. 
Agent in ^Esthetic Education, 
412-3. 
Theater, The Children 's, 328-331. 
Thorndike, Formal Discipline, 383. 
Thoroughness, Pedagogical Mean- 
ing, 219. 
Enriches Concepts, 347-8. 
Thought, Stages of, in Mental De- 
velopment, 106, 212. 
Steps in, 360-2. 
How Educate Mind to Think, 

363-380. 
All Subjects Can Develop, 380. 
See also Conception, Judgment, 
Reason. 
Titehener, Emotions, 401-2. 
Toynbee, Settlement Movement, 

473. 
Toys, Elaborate Forms of, 323-4. 
Tridimensional Theory of Emo- 
tions, 397. 
Trunk, Index of Brain Control, 29. 
Type, A Medium of Teaching, 
262-3. 
Injudicious Use, 373-4. 
Threefold Function, 374-5. 



4^5 



113. 

Unity in Curriculum, 111-112. 

Vocations! Education, Forms of, 
57. 
Economic Ad\ 
and Criirinali: . 
and Democracy, C6. 
See also Industrial Education. 
: r*n, Iu Terms of Feeling, 
396-7, 407-8. See also Will. 
Visual 7<uion. 246. 
Vividness, A Factor in Recall, 300. 

Wash crton, Booker T., Industrial 

iducation, 56, 65. 
^Veismann, On Heredity, 463-5. 
Will, Function in Life," 

Me !4-5. 

Ideo-Motor Conception, 425-7. 

Free Will, 42 

Conflict for Action, 428-9. 



Inhibition, 4.30-1. 

Classification, 43 '-4. 

Normal vs. Perverse, 431-2. 

Conduct, 4o4. 

Factors in Voluntary Action, 

434. 
Variety of Action, 435-6. 
Measure of Developed Will, 

451-2. 
Ho. rt Volitional Life, 

i-6. 
See also Ethical Instruction and 
Social Sentiments. 
Wilson, Woodrow, Formal Disci- 

383. 
Woodward, Elimination, 62. 
Wuiuir, Tridimensional Theory of 
Emotions, 397. 

Yerkes, On Feelings, 397. 
On Heredity, 459. 

Ziller, Culture Epoch, 99. 



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